"Very likely, and very wrongly. You wouldn't have minded much."
"I don't think I should."
They were intimate already. The Father felt most pleasantly at home under the black ceiling. He drank some soda water and seemed to enjoy it more than the Professor enjoyed his claret.
"You smile at the theory of the chain of human sympathy, I see," said the Father. "Then what is your explanation of the failure of your square party with corners, the success of your oval party without them?"
"Probably on the first occasion the wit of the assembly had a chill on his liver, while on the second he was in perfect health. Yet, you see, I stick to the oval table."
"And that means——"
"Very little. By the way, your omission of any allusion to the notorious part liver plays in love was a serious one to-night."
"Your omission of any desire for close human sympathy in your life is a more serious one."
"How can you be sure I have no such desire?"
"I divine it. Your look, your manner, tell me it is so. You were disagreeing with my sermon all the time I was preaching. Weren't you?"