“Not in Cambridge. I do in the country.”
“And so,” she prompted, “you're going to turn it into a hotel when you've got out of Harvard.”
“It's a hotel already, and a pretty big one; but I'm going to make the right kind of hotel of it when I take hold of it.”
“And what is the right kind of a hotel?”
“That's a long story. It would make you tired.”
“It might, but we've got to spend the time somehow. You could begin, and then if I couldn't stand it you could stop.”
“It's easier to stop first and begin some other time. I guess I'll let you imagine my hotel, Miss Lynde.”
“Oh, I understand now,” said the girl. “The table will be the great thing. You will stuff people.”
“Do you mean that I'm trying to stuff you?”
“How do I know? You never can tell what men really mean.”