"So I said to my wee mither, Lana, by way of setting her right as to meddlesome tongues."
"I am sincere and honest still, Stewart, where my real friends are concerned. I've just complained because I can't find words to express my thoughts to you. Well, I never was at a loss when we were boy and girl together." She paused and they heard the sound of music.
"There's a frilly style of talk that belongs with that—down there," she went on. There was a hint of contempt in her gesture. "But you and I used to get along better—or worse—with plain speech." The flash of a smile of her own softened her moue.
"I make it serve me well in my affairs," agreed Morrison.
"Do you think I'm airy and notional and stuck up?"
"No!"
"Do you think I'm posing as a know-it-all because I have been about in the world and have seen and heard?"
"No!"
"But you do think I'm broader and wiser and more open-minded and have better judgment on matters in general than I had when I was penned up here in Marion, don't you?"
"Yes!"