"It doesn't bore me," I replied.
"No; I gave him his orders not to talk politics to you."
"That's a compliment, surely."
"Oh, I don't know. I told him he ought to see that you didn't understand the political situation. And after he'd converted you he was willing enough to grant you freedom. Mr. Belford, why haven't you told me more about yourself?"
And this gave me the opportunity to ask her why she had not told me more about herself, her days of romance.
"I have had no such days," she said. "I was born here and I live here and that is all. But you have been everywhere; you came from an old and poetic country."
"And you," I replied, "have always lived in a poetic country."
"No, dreamy and visionary, but hardly poetic. Poetry means action and adventure. You have never told me about her?"
"Her? What her do you mean?"
"Oh, any her. There must have been one."