“No—rhymes—although they come to me very fast. At school I wrote lots of them.”
“You will show them to me, Sweetheart? I will tell you then whether you are a true poet or simply a rhymester.”
“I will show them to you on one condition, Mr. de Vere.”
“Well?”
“That you answer the question I asked you just now.”
“What was it?”
“Which do you prefer—beauty or intellect?”
“But I answered it.”
“No; you expressed a preference for a combination. I desire that you express a choice.”
Norman laughed at her anxiety, with a little inward wonder over it.