"To write her?" I answered, only the more puzzled.
"You don't understand, Gilbert," Constance answered, moving about the room, as she had a way of doing when anyway disturbed. After a while, recovering herself, she went on, "Suppose your aunt is farther away than you think, Gilbert?"
"I don't understand, Constance, unless she is dead or has moved away," I answered, greatly disturbed.
"Suppose this is not Little Sandy, but Appletop. What would you say to that, Gilbert?" she asked, kissing me.
At this I was more bewildered than ever, not being able in any way to make out the sense of what she was saying.
"How can that be and you here?" I answered at last.
"Well, would it be so very strange? I might be in Appletop, you know," she answered, as if leading me on.
"This room, too! It couldn't be in both places!" I cried, thinking that for some reason she was seeking to mislead me.
"Might we not have moved to Appletop and brought these things with us? That would make it clear," she answered, bending over me.
"Yes—I don't know—only tell me quick!" I answered.