"No—I’m not honestly sure. _Everything_ interests me. I have a craving to see everything and learn about everything in the world. I want to know all there is to know; I’m feverishly curious. I want to see everything, experience everything, attempt everything! It’s silly—it’s crazy, of course. But there’s a restless desire for the knowledge of experience in my heart that I can’t explain. I love everything—not any one particular thing above another—but everything. To be great in any one thing would not satisfy me—it’s a terrible thing to say, isn’t it, Jim!—but if I were a great actress I should try to become a great singer, too; and then a great painter and sculptor and architect——" "For Heaven’s sake, Steve!" "I tell you I want to know it all, be it all—see, do, live everything that is to be seen, done, and lived in the world——!" She lifted her head and straightened her shoulders, sweeping the tumbled hair from her brow impatiently: and her brilliant grey eyes met his, unsmiling. "Of course," she said, "this is rot I’m talking. But every hour of my life I’m going to try to learn something new about the wonderful world I live in—try something new and wonderful—live every minute to the full—experience everything.... Do you think I’m a fool, Jim?" He smiled: "No, but you make me feel rather unambitious and commonplace, Steve. After all, I merely wish to write a few good novels. That would content me." "Oh, Jim," she said, "you’ll do it, and I’ll probably amount to nothing. I’ll just be a crazy creature flying about and poking my nose into everything, and stirring it up a little and then fluttering on to the next thing. Like the Bandar-log—that’s what I am—just a monkey, enchanted and excited by everything inside my cage and determined to find out what is hidden under every straw." "Yours is a good mind, Steve," he said, still smiling. The girl looked up at him wistfully: "Is it? I wish I knew. I’m going to try to find out. Have I really a good mind? Or is it just a restless one? Anyway, there’s no use my trying to be an ordinary girl. I’m either monkey or genius; and I am convinced that the world was made for me to rummage in." He laughed. "Anyway," she said, "I’ve amused you and cheered you up. Good night, Jim dear." *CHAPTER XIII* Stephanie, looking very slim and young in her deep mourning, went back to college unreconciled and in tears. Jim drove her to the station. They stood together in the Pullman vestibule for a few minutes before the train departed, and she clung to him, both black-gloved hands holding tightly to his shoulders. "Everything familiar in life seems to be ending," she said tremulously. "I’m not very old yet, and I didn’t really wish to begin living seriously so soon—no matter what nonsense I talked about self-expression. All I want now is to get off this train and go back home with you."