me for a conversational blotting-pad. That’s my only use in his eyes.”
“He’s so very impractical.”
“I am used to impractical men. I have taken care of you since I was five years old.”
“Yes, my dear. But I am not trying to feed the world bread when it demands cheese.”
“No, you are distinctly practical. You are only trying to prove a fourth dimension, when three have sufficed the world up to date.”
“Yes, but..."
“No buts. If it had not been for me you would have gone naked and been arrested, or have forgotten to eat and starved to death.”
“Now, my dear Bambi, I protest…"
“It will do you no good. Don’t I remember how you started off to meet your nine o’clock class clad in your pyjamas?”
“Oh, my child!”
“Don’t talk to me about impracticality. It’s my birthright.”
“Well, I can prove to you…"
“I never believe anything you have to prove. If I can’t see it, first thing, without any process, it isn’t true.”
