If you met her you would, I am certain, think her as fine as I do. ” “But how did you tell him? You’ve never told me. ” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. He motioned the young man to the rear chair, because at that hour the youth appeared to be a quantity close to zero. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. We have both tried hard to develop it—you and I —and we have failed.
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