"I'm not surprised," she said. "I always thought you had it in you."
Paul was a little piqued that she took it so easily, though on reflection he perceived that this was a compliment. "It is impossible not to write at St. Mary's," he said.
"Is it very lovely?" she asked softly.
"Oh, exquisite. You must see. Do you think you could come up in the summer term? My rooms are small and high up you know, but perfect I think. And the Hall and Chapel thrill me every time I see them. If you could see the moonlight on our First Court!"
"Doesn't Claxted bore you after all that?"
Paul laughed. "It's rather quaint," he confessed. "It's really rather like another world. Do you know, I've been to the theatre."
"Have you? Oh how splendid! I'd love to go."
"Don't tell anyone," said Paul, cautiously.
"Of course not. What did you see?"
"The Mikado."