THE SACRED FOUNT
alas! having it. That fitted beautifully," I smiled, "till the piece came out. And even now," I added, "I don't feel it quite accounted for."
"Their being there together?"
"No. Your not liking it that they were."
She stared. "Not liking it?"
I could see how little indeed she minded now, but I also kept the thread of my own intellectual history. "Yes. Your not liking it is what I speak of as the piece. I hold it, you see, up before you. What, artistically, would you do with it?"
But one might take a horse to water———! I held it up before her, but I couldn't make her look at it. "How do you know what I mayn't, or may, have liked?"
It did bring me to. "Because you were conscious of not telling me? Well, even if you didn't———!"
"That made no difference," she inquired with a generous derision, "because you could always imagine? Of course you could always imagine—which is precisely what is the matter with you! But I'm surprised at your coming to me with it once more as evidence of anything."
I stood rebuked, and even more so than I showed her, for she need, obviously, only decline to take one of my counters to deprive it of all value as coin. When she pushed it across I had but to pocket it again. "It is the weakness of my case," I feebly
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