Desire looked up long enough to allow her slanting brows to ask their eternal question.
"Too much inside, not enough outside," he answered. "I ought to have made myself a man first and a student afterward. Then I might have been out in the rain you."
She considered this, as she considered most things, gravely. Then
met it in her downright way.
"There's nothing very wrong with you, is there? Nothing but what can be put right."
"No."
"Well then, you can begin again. And begin properly."
"I am thirty-five."
"In that case you have no time to waste."
It was a thoroughly sensible remark. But somehow the professor did not like it. After all, thirty-five is not so terribly old. He decided to change the subject. But there was no immediate hurry. It was pleasant to lie there in the firelight watching this enigma of girl-hood dry her hair. Perhaps she would notice his silence and ask him what he was thinking about.
"You really ought to offer me a penny for my thoughts," he observed plaintively.