"I don't see why you need write at all."
"Don't you remember I promised before you came?"
"But I've come now," he replied in a tone intended to be very convincing.
"His mother would miss it, if I didn't write; she thinks she can't write letters. And I like his letters," she added frankly.
"I suppose you do. I suppose you like them better than mine," with an assertion hardly a question in his voice.
"They are so different. His life is so different from yours. But he is shy, as shy as a girl, and does not tell me all the things you do. Your letters are more interesting, but he is more interesting—as a study. You are a lesson that I have learned, but I have scarcely begun to learn him."
"That is very cold blooded when you are talking about human beings."
"My brain was talking then."
"Suppose you let your heart speak."
"My heart hasn't anything to say; it is not developed yet."