"Oh yes, yes; I know your philosophy. But I meant happy with me,
through me?"

She stroked her delicate nose thoughtfully. The mocking expression
about the corners of her mouth became accentuated.

"I hardly think so, Richard," she said after an interval. "I was too
much afraid of you ... I seemed so stupid in comparison to you and I
feared that you would despise me." "That fear, at least, you have
overcome very thoroughly?" he asked.

"Not wholly, Richard. Things have only shifted their basis. Just as,
in those days, I felt ashamed of my ignorance, so now I feel
ashamed--no, that isn't the right word.... But all this stuff that I
store up in my head seems to weigh upon me in my relations with you. I
seem to be a nuisance with it.... You men, especially mature men like
yourself, seem to know all these things better, even when you don't
know them.... The precise form in which a given thought is presented
to us may be new to you, but the thought itself you have long
digested. It's for this reason that I feel intimidated whenever I
approach you with my pursuits. 'You might better have held your
peace,' I say to myself. But what am I to do? I'm so profoundly
interested!"

"So you really need the society of a rather stupid fellow, one to whom
all this is new and who will furnish a grateful audience?"

"Stupid? No," she answered, "but he ought to be inexperienced. He
ought himself to want to learn things.... He ought not to assume a
compassionate expression as who should say: 'Ah, my dear child, if you