"I've been thinking," she remarked, "that this question of making love to me should be seriously discussed."
"That's what I've been asking you to do in the patio—"
"I've been thinking, with deep but rather tardy concern, that it is not the best policy for me to be—courted—any more."
She glanced up; her entire expression had suddenly altered to a gravity unmistakable.
"What has happened?" he asked.
"Can you tell me? I ask you, Garry, what has happened?"
"I don't understand—"
"Nor I.... Because that little fool you kissed—so many, many centuries ago—is not this disillusioned woman who is standing here!... May I be a little bit serious with you?"
"Of course," he said, amused; "come out on the east balcony and tell me what troubles you."
She considered him, smilingly suspicious of his alacrity.