“Well, there’s one advantage about a piano in the woods,” teased Paul.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll be more comfortable, and possibly less moist than the other fellow.”
“What other fellow?”
“The one who sat on a wet cloud pecking at a harp—ask Widow Bedot.”
Evidently Paul was trying to escape a serious discussion. Fortunately for both, Adele came to the rescue. She perceived that men of such different temperaments could seldom see anything from the same point of view unless it was the result of a similar or simultaneous experience, and that with Paul the personality of the artist should go far to promote a thorough appreciation of his work.
“It strikes me,” said Adele, “neither of you knows all that may be said on that subject.”
“H’m!” ejaculated the Doctor, looking out of the corner of his eye.
“Or else you’re not thinking about the same thing.”
“Give it up,” laughed Paul. “I was with the Widow on that cloud.”