“Why in our hearts?” I asked.
“How you peg one down to precision,” said Judith, testily. “I wish I were a Roman Catholic.”
“Why?”
“I could go into a convent.”
“You had much better go to Delphine Carrere,” said I.
“I have only been back a day, and you want to get rid of me already?” she cried, using her woman’s swift logic of unreason.
“I want you to be happy and contented, my dear Judith.”
“H’m,” she said.
Her slipper dangling as usual from the tip of her foot fell to the ground. I declare I was only half conscious of the accident as my mind was deep in other things.
“You don’t even pick up my slipper,” she said.