"Do you?" he replied. "Well, I'll tell you if you're right."
"You were thinking of 'Forty Years On.'"
The smile died from Harry's face, and he paused a moment before replying, almost gruffly:
"Yes, I was, as a matter of fact. How did you guess it?"
"Oh, I know all about you, you see." She stopped, and her silence seemed to Harry to mean "I'm sorry if I've hurt you; but I wish you'd go on and talk to me, and not be absurd." So he threw off his pique and went on:
"I don't know how you know about my going to Harrow, nor how you know anything about 'Forty Years On,' and I don't care much; but I put it to you, as man to man, isn't it a song that's worth thinking about?"
"It is! There never was such a song."
"Not even 'Fair Harvard'?"
"No."
"Not even 'Bright College Years,' to which you will shortly be treated?"