"And have you always lived there?"
"I lived a year or so in New York, and I manage to get on here some time every winter. The rest of the year Midland is quite enough for me. It's gay at times; there's a good deal going on; and I can write there as well as anywhere, and better than in New York. Then, you know, in a small way I'm a prophet in my own country, perhaps because I was away from it for awhile. It's very pretty. But it's very base of you to make me talk about myself when I'm so anxious to hear about Mr. Maxwell."
"And do you spend all your time writing Ibsen criticisms of Ibsen plays?" Louise pursued against his protest.
"I do some other kind of writing."
"As—"
"Oh, no! I'm not here to interview myself."
"Oh, but you ought. I know you've written something—some novel. Your name was so familiar from the first." Mr. Ray laughed and shook his head in mockery of her cheap device. "You mustn't be vexed because I'm so vague about it. I'm very ignorant."
"You said you were from Boston."
"But there are Bostons and Bostons. The Boston that I belonged to never hears of American books till they are forgotten!"
"Ah, how famous I must be there!"