“Oh, you needn’t talk like that. And you needn’t despise them that hasn’t got brains. I suppose you wanter marry a genius, eh?”
Catherine laughed.
“Not particularly,” she replied carefully, as if she were pondering over the subject, “but I know this much: I wouldn’t marry a man unless he’d got brains.”
“Ho—wouldn’t you?”
“No, I wouldn’t....”
§ 6
They spent Saturday afternoon at the Zoo.
“A very interesting place,” he said, as they were strolling through Regent’s Park, with a July sun blazing down upon them. “And instructive,” he added complimentarily.
The snake-house was very hot, and in front of a languid Indian python he remarked: “Poor things—to be stuffed up like that in a glass case....” He seemed to be searching for a humane plane on which to steer their conversation.
And in the lion house, as they stopped in front of a huge lioness, he remarked facetiously: “How should you like to be shut up alone with that creature, eh?”