He.—Speaking of our faults, I think that the best way to correct them is to notice them in our friends, and then to try to avoid them. But, of course, you haven't any.
She.—Any friends?
He.—Any faults, of course.
She.—I fear that you are not a good critic.
He.—I may not be; but you certainly have none of the bad habits that we have enumerated.
She.—Oh! you couldn't see them if I had.
He.—From sheer stupidity?
She.—Hardly; only as far as I am concerned, you have become accustomed to think of me as did Dick of Maisie, in "The Light that Failed" that "The Queen can do no wrong."
He.—That reminds me—I have just finished reading "The Light that Failed," and I am sure that I shall never get away from the awfulness of it—the awfulness of having the light go out forever.