Durant was so much absorbed in these observations that he did not hear her come into the room.
"Have you found anything you can read?" she asked.
"I've found a great deal that I can't read. You do go in strong for languages."
"That's nothing; my mother was a Russian, and Russians know every language better than their own. I don't know more than seven besides mine. And I can only read and write them. They will never be any use to me."
"How can you tell what may be of use to you? Even Mrs. Fazakerly, or I?" Durant was anxious to give a playful turn to that remarkable discussion they once had; he thus hoped to set the tone for all future conversations with Miss Tancred. "I admit that you can't live on languages, they are not exactly safety-valves for the emotions; nobody can swear in more than three of them at a time. I think music's better. Instead of playing whist you ought to play Chopin."
"It's better to play whist well than Chopin badly."
"Better to rule in Hades than fool in the other place, you think? Miss Tancred, you are as proud as Lucifer."
"I don't see that any good is got by murdering the masters."
"It saves some women from worse crimes, I believe. Why didn't you take to sketching, then? That only kills time."
Miss Tancred was splendid in her scorn. "Kill time with painting bad pictures? I'd rather time killed me."