Helen laughed. "If I explain, you'll think me snobbish, Ted, and I'm not, even if mother is. Don't you see—all these boys and girls—well that's what Deep Harbor is like."
"I understand perfectly, now I think it over. I should be very careful where I took you to tea at home—and we'd have to have official sanction to go at all ... Deep Harbor is like the rest of the world."
Again she laughed, and her grey eyes danced. "Ted, you really must give up thinking we are strange aborigines. But I feel the same way you do when I come back from boarding school—until I settle down again."
"I suppose it's the old prejudice against the new and strange," I said.
"You've just said Deep Harbor is like the rest of the world, Ted."
"It is," I said, looking at her until she dropped her eyes.
"Always conceding that you know the world, Ted," she added slyly, looking up suddenly from under her lashes.
"I've seen quite a lot of it."
"Is that the same as knowing it?"
"No, but it's a start."