"You've kept it up?"
"Rather. There isn't a sentence he mightn't have written himself. I think I'm going to let him go back to Lower Wyck on the last page and end there. In his Manor. I thought of putting something in about holly-decked halls and Yule logs on the Christmas hearth. He was photographed the other day. In the snow."
"Gorgeous."
"I wonder if he'll really settle down now. Or if he'll do it all over again some day with somebody else."
"You can't tell. You can't possibly tell. He may do anything."
"That's what we feel about him," Barbara said.
"Endless possibilities. Yet you'd think he couldn't go one better than
Mrs. Levitt."
For the next half-mile they disputed whether in the scene with Mrs. Levitt he was or was not really funny. Ralph was inclined to think that he might have been purely disgusting.
"You didn't see him, Ralph. You've no right to say he wasn't funny."
"No. No. I didn't see him. You needn't rub it in, Barbara."