"I suppose it is hard for a stranger. Is there anything else—any other joke, I mean, that you'd like to get at the true inwardness of?"
Muriel recognised the opportunity she had sought.
"I—I wish you'd tell me, if you don't mind, you know that costume you wear in the play, that kilt—why do you wear that, Mr. Taylor?"
J. B. surveyed her perplexed.
"Why do I wear the kilt and all the rest of it? Why—why to make a little fun, you know."
"I thought that was it," said Muriel earnestly. "But, you see, it's really not funny."
"Oh, isn't it?"
"Not a bit," Muriel assured him; and then her heart dropped dismally at the expression on his face.
He did not looked pleased somehow.
"I—I didn't mean that you aren't funny, you know, I mean it isn't funny."