L. Oh, how utterly sweet! Do tell me some more of science. I adore it already.
I. Do you, dear? Well, I almost forgot about differentiation. I am really and truly positively in love with differentiation. It's different from molecules and protoplasms, but it's every bit as nice. And our professor! You should hear him enthuse about it; he's perfectly bound up in it. This is a differentiation scarf--they've just come out. All the girls wear them--just on account of the interest we take in differentiation.
L. What is it, anyway?
I. Mull trimmed with Languedoc lace, but--
L. I don't mean that--the other.
I. Oh, differentiation! That's just sweet. It's got something to do with species. And we learn all about ascidians, too. They are the divinest things! If I only had an ascidian of my own! I wouldn't ask anything else in the world.
L. What do they look like, dear? Did you ever see one?
I. Oh, no; nobody ever did but the poor dear professors; but they're something like an oyster with a reticule hung on its belt. I think they are just too lovely for anything.
L. Did you learn anything else besides?
I. Oh, yes. We studied common philosophy, and logic, and metaphysics, and a lot of those ordinary things, but the girls didn't care anything about those. We were just in ecstasies over differentiations, and molecules, and the professor, and protoplasms, and ascidians. I don't see why they put in those common branches; we couldn't hardly endure them.