"That's an interesting concept," responded Phil, with his slow, friendly gravity. "You mean, I suppose, that if we must be anthropomorphic, we ought at least to be consistent."
"Wouldn't it be funny," said Susan, "if I did mean that without knowing it?" There was no flippancy, no irony in her tone. "'An-thro-po-mor-phic . . . '" she added, savoring its long-drawn-outness. Susan never missed a strange word; she always pounced on it at once, unerringly, and made it hers.
"That's a Greek word," explained Phil.
"It's a good word," said Susan, "if it has a tremendous lot packed up in it. If it hasn't, it's much too long."
"I agree with you," said Phil; "but it has."
"What?" asked Susan.
"It would take me an hour to tell you."
"Oh, I'm glad!" cried Susan. "It must be a wonderful word! Please go on till Ambo comes!"
I decided to take a bath, and tiptoed softly and undetected away.