“I thought you said she was a type?”
“She is,––the type of unmarried woman who continually develops too much pep for her brain to properly take care of.”
“You mean you consider Palla Dumont neurotic?”
“No. Nothing abnormal. Perhaps super-normal––pathologically speaking. Bodily health is fine. But over-secretion of ardent energy sometimes disturbs one’s mental equilibrium. The result, in a crisis, is likely to result in extravagant behavior. Martyrs are made of such stuff, for example.”
“You think her a visionary?”
“Well, her reason and her emotions sometimes become rather badly entangled, I fancy.”
“Don’t everybody’s?”
“At intervals. Then the thing to do is to keep perfectly cool till the fit is over.”
“So you think her impulsive?”
“Well, I should say so!” smiled Estridge. “Of course I mean nicely impulsive––even nobly impulsive.... But that won’t help her. Impulse never helped anybody. It’s a spoke in the wheel––a stumbling block––a stick to trip anybody.... Particularly a girl.... And Palla Dumont mistakes impulse for logic. She honestly thinks that she reasons.” He 73 smiled to himself: “A disturbingly pretty girl,” he murmured, “with a tender heart ... which seems to do all her thinking for her.... How well do you know her, Jim?”