“Very,” I answered; “wiser than Solomon. He had seven hundred wives, and I have none.”
“And is that wise,—to have none?”
“Eve, Eve,” I cried, “you do not help me. I jest because I fear to speak in earnest.”
“You are good, Adam,” she said. “And if you are wise, you may tell me what to do.”
“If you would do what I tell you!”
She was bending very low over her digging, and her face was turned away, which did not please me. I like to see her face.
“I fear that I may lose my place,” she said.
I straightened up at that, but she bent lower yet.
“Lose your place!” I cried. “And why?”
“Why—they—it is not easy to tell you, Adam.”