“And you Eris?”
“Yes;—tired, though.”
“You are successful. I’ve heard that.”
“I have very much to learn, Mr. Annan.... There seems to be no end to study.... But there is no other pleasure or excitement comparable to it.”
“Are you still hot on the trail of Truth?” he ventured with a forced smile.
She laughed frankly: “Yes, and do you know that hunting truth doesn’t seem to be a popular sport?” Then, more seriously: “Of what value is anything else, Mr. Annan? Why isn’t truth more popular? Could you tell me why?”
The old, remembered cry of Eris—“Could you tell me why?”—was sounding in his ears again—the same wistful, familiar question.
If Annan had now regained his native equanimity it was entirely due to this girl who had not even deigned to admit any awkwardness in their encounter. And he realised, gratefully, that she was continuing to ignore any lesser detail than the happy fact of reunion.
“So that’s your idea of happiness?” he said, gratefully reassured.
“It always was. I told you so long ago.”