“It’s quite true. That dancing figure is wholly charming. It is no study; it is pure creation.”
He knew it; was a little thrilled that she, representing to him an average and mediocre public, should recognize it so intelligently.
“As though,” she continued, “you had laid aside childish things.”
“What?” he asked, surprised again at the authority of the expression.
“Academic precision and the respectable excellencies of-the-usual;—you have put away childish things and become a man.”
“Where did you hear that?” he said bluntly.
“I heard it when I said it. You know, Mr. Drene, I am not wholly uneducated, although your amiable question insinuates as much.”
“I’m not unamiable. Only I didn’t suppose—”
“Oh, you never have supposed anything concerning me. So why are you surprised when I express myself with fragmentary intelligence?”
“I’m sorry—”