“The possibility of your being as she is one day.”
“Ah!”
The blind moved a little faster and her hand held it tighter.
“I put it to you as a reasonable man—do you believe in that possibility?”
“As a reasonable man, I do,” said he watching the pink shadows playing in her dimples.
“Yes—? And how is this to come to pass?”
“Ah, there you have me!” he said, “I don’t know—possibly God may, or the modern monster, Evolution.”
“Through what processes, I should very much like to know?”
“So should I, but I don’t, you see.”
“She’d feel better if her face flushed like other women’s,” he thought; “it must be ghastly to have to consume all one’s own smoke like that.”