“Another day,” she replied. “These things can’t all be dragged at once out of the past. We’ll have many opportunities of talking—till your new foot comes.”
“You will have another talk—many others, won’t you?” he asked eagerly.
“Why should you doubt it?”
“I don’t know. Forgive me for saying it—I don’t want to be rude, but women are funny sometimes.”
She smiled from the wisdom of her superior age—his frankness had the disarming quality of a child. “What do you know of women, Godfrey Baltazar?”
He wrinkled his brow whimsically and rubbed his hair.
“Not much. What man does? Do you know,” he asked with the air of a pioneer of thought, “you are all damnably perplexing?”
At this she laughed outright. “Isn’t she kind?”
“She—who—oh, yes. How did you guess?”
“The way of Nature varies very little. What about her?”