"I don't care. You're not. Goddesses are immortal and their
youth dies not."

"I suppose I ought to get up and curtsey."

"If you do, I shall have to rise and make you a leg, so please
don't."

For a moment she smiled into the fire. Then:

"I wonder if two people have ever sat here before, as we're
sitting now?"

"Many a time," said I. "Runaway couples, you know. I expect
the old wood walls think we're another pair."

"They can't see, though."

"No. Born blind. That's why they hear so well. And they never
forget. These four"- with a sweep of my cigarette- "have long
memories of things, some sweet, some stern, some full of tears,
and some again so mirthful that they split their panelled sides
with merriment whenever they call them to mind."

"And here's another to rnake them smile."

"Smile? Yes. Wise, whimsical, fatherly smiles, especially wise.
They think we're lovers, remember."

"I forgot. Well, the sooner they find out their mis- "