She did not reply.
"It is a pity when deafness overtakes people—the first sign of old age."
"She is not deaf," said mother, "and is only fifty-one."
I laughed.
"Kiss me, mother, dear," I said, "you are so practical at times. And yet some people of your age are quite romantic and sentimental."
"La, la, la, la!" sang Nanty. She leaned over my couch. "Marguerite," she said, "I should slap you if you were strong and well."
"But I'm not," I said, "so kiss me." And she did so, while whispering that the Professor had been to tea with her. "It's not proper," I said, and Nanty laughed.