“Ah? Well, I would. Here it is two full weeks since I settled down on you. Why don’t you evict me?”
Miss Van Arsdale smiled. The girl continued:
“Why don’t I evict myself? I’m quite well and sane again—at least I think so—thanks to you. Very well, then, Io; why don’t you go home?”
“Instinct of self-preservation,” suggested the other. “You’re better off here until your strength is quite restored, aren’t you?”
The girl propped her chin in her hand and turned upon her companion a speculative regard. “Camilla Van Arsdale, you don’t really like me,” she asserted.
“Liking is such an undefined attitude,” replied the other, unembarrassed.
“You find me diverting,” defined Io. “But you resent me, don’t you?”
“That’s rather acute in you. I don’t like your standards nor those of your set.”
“I’ve abandoned them.”
“You’ll resume them as soon as you get back.”