“I think I shall disobey Polonius by trying to be a borrower,” you announced, and turning to Mr. Whitely, you asked, “Do you ever loan your books?”
“To lend to you would be a pleasure, and give added value to the volume,” assented Mr. Whitely, joining us. “Take anything you wish.”
“Thank you so much. Will you let me see what you have of Saadi, so that I may take my choice?”
“You were speaking of”—hemmed Mr. Whitely.
“Saadi.”
“Ah, yes. Dr. Hartzmann knows where it is.”
When I had led the way to the proper shelf, you selected the Gulistan, opened it, and then laughed. “You have the best protection against borrowers. I envy both of you the ability to read him in the original, but it is beyond me.”
“As you read Latin, you can read Gentius’ translation of the Bostan,” I suggested, taking the book down.
“How do you know that I can read Latin?” you asked.
I faltered for a moment, too much taken aback to think what to reply, and fortunately Mr. Whitely interposed quickly, “Miss Walton’s reputation for learning is so well recognized that knowledge of Latin is taken for granted.”