“At a boarding-house?” he gasped. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. She wanted to go to Cornell University to study Anthropology, that was her 183 dream. You could, if you were ambitious to round out your education, memorize certain popular foreign phrases. That old world that had shoved up that silly old hotel, and all the rest of it. But for now, I’d like to turn in, if you don’t mind. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, and imitated the tom-tom.
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