"How wonderfully you talk!" she said, with good-natured mockery. "You are scientifically frank. You were bored with yourself.--Then there is some hope for your future wife. . . . We have had many talks in our acquaintance, Dr. Marmion, but none so interesting as this promises to be. But now tell me what your purpose was in coming. 'Purpose' seems portentous, but quite in keeping." I noticed here the familiar, almost imperceptible click of the small white teeth. Was I so glad she was going that I was playful, elated? "My purpose," said I, "has no point now; for even if I were to propose to amuse you--I believe that was the old formula--by an idle day somewhere, by an excursion, an--" "An autobiography," she broke in soothingly. "Or an autobiography," I repeated stolidly, "you would not, I fancy, be prepared to accept my services. There would be no chance--now that you are going away--for me to play the harlequin--" "Whose office you could do pleasantly if it suited you--these adaptable natures!" "Quite so. But it is all futile now, as I say." "Yes, you mentioned that before.--Well?" "It is well," I replied, dropping into a more meaning tone. "You say it patriarchally, but yet flatteringly." Here she casually offered me a flower. I mechanically placed it in my buttonhole. She seemed delighted at confusing me. But I kept on firmly. "I do not think," I rejoined gravely now, "that there need be any flattery between us." "Why?--We are not married." "That is as radically true as it is epigrammatic," blurted I. "And truth is more than epigram?" "One should delight in truth; I do delight in epigram; there seems little chance for choice here." It seemed to me that I had said quite what I wished there, but she only looked at me enigmatically. She arranged a flower in her dress as she almost idly replied, though she did not look me full in the face as she had done before: "Well, then, let me add to your present delight by saying that you may go play till doomsday, Dr. Marmion. Your work is done." "I do not understand." Her eyes were on me now with the directness she could so well use at need. "I did not suppose you would, despite your many lessons at my hands. You have been altruistic, Dr. Marmion; I fear critical people would say that you meddled. I shall only say that you are inquiring--scientific, or feminine--what you please! . . . You can now yield up your portfolio of--foreign affairs--of war--shall I say? and retire into sedative habitations, which, believe me, you become best. . . . What concerns me need concern you no longer. The enemy retreats. She offers truce-- without conditions. She retires. . . . Is that enough for even you, Professor Marmion?"