"How long since he died ?" "Why, I haven't heard that he was dead." She looked at him curiously.
"Where did you make his acquaintance ?" "I never clapped eyes on him," was the reply.

"But I read some of his poetry out of that book there on the table just before you come in.

How do you like his poetry ?" And thereat she began to talk quickly and easily upon the subject he had suggested.

He felt better, and settled back slightly from the edge of the chair, holding tightly to its arms with his hands, as if it might get away from him and buck him to the floor.

He had succeeded in making her talk her talk, and while she rattled on, he strove to follow her, marvelling at all the knowledge that was stowed away in that pretty head of hers, and drinking in the pale beauty of her face.