“Me?”
“You are not open with me. These endless talks that you and Stanny have, that break off so awkwardly when I come in!”
“Just man-talk.”
“Don’t tell me that again! It’s only a pretext. There’s no such thing as man-talk or woman-talk—not with a woman like me!”
“A good deal of it is Stanny’s talk. I’m always trying to give him a more cheerful outlook. I never shall, of course.”
“A good half of it is your talk. Your eyes do not light up like that when you are talking to me!”
“Oh, but Fanny . . . ! Why . . . you and I communicate without talking.”
“No! You keep yourself to yourself until Stanny comes! . . . I am always perfectly open with you . . .”
“Indeed, you’re not!” said Wilfred quickly. “There is that whole novel at the bottom of your heart!”
“Well, if I do keep things from you, I don’t save them up for the first stranger!”