“Only whether you would think it quite so jolly if it were all.”
For awhile he made no reply, then he laid down his knife and fork.
“I say,” he said, “shall we be friends?”
“I am sure we shall be.”
“I mean— Well, this meeting of ours was never really intended, so one might excusably assume that it had never taken place. Wouldn’t we be justified, then, in talking to one another as we might have talked to ourselves if we had been alone?”
Eve shivered. “It might not be a happy conversation.”
“Even so—why not? We could be as honest as dreams are, and what we said could be as easily forgotten.”
“I’m frightened of dreams,” said Eve. “They never come true.”
“Won’t you tell me one that hasn’t come true? If it hasn’t come false there is hope for it yet.”
“I suppose there is.”