Just as soon as the men came up-stairs, Mr. Gerald came where I was. He wanted me to go down the rooms to see a "Chartron." I thought it was some kind of furniture; but when I got there it was a picture of Miss Antoinette, and we sat down with our backs to it.
"How are you?" Mr. Gerald said—his voice was kind of like he kept boxes of them and opened one special for you. "Tell me about yourself."
"I feel," I said, "as if I'd been sitting on the edge of things all my life, and I'd just jumped over in. It's a pity you never were born again. You can't tell how it feels."
"Yes, I was," he said, "I've been born again."
"Well, didn't it make you want to forget everything that had happened to you before?" I said.
"It does," said Mr. Gerald; "and I have. You know, don't you, that I count time now from the day I met you?"
"Great guns!" I said.
It took me off my feet so that I didn't remember to say "My word," like they'd told me. I sat and stared at him.
He laughed at me. "You wonder!" he said. "They'll never spoil you, after all. Cosma,—couldn't you? Couldn't you?"