Again the pronouns were emphasised, and the Prophet thought how difficult it would be to keep his oath.
“And because I know now that you’re silly too.”
The Prophet jumped, though not for joy.
“I’ve been Miss Minerva Partridge for—wait a moment, I must look.”
She got up, went to a writing table, opened a drawer in it, and took out a large red book and turned its leaves.
“My diary,” she explained. “It’s foolish to keep one, isn’t it?”
Her intonation so obviously called for an affirmative that the Prophet felt constrained to reply,—
“Very foolish indeed.”
She smiled with pleasure.
“I’m so glad you think so. Ah—exactly a year and a half.”