SUNDAY EVENING
of her despair, on that first night, watching the light go out of the world. Think how it must have felt."
"I expect Adam was reassuring," said Mrs. McKenna; "he'd seen it happen before."
"No, he hadn't; they were born on the same day—that is, weren't they? Bother, look it up in Genesis."
"Yes, they were," said Laura conclusively. She was full of information.
"So Adam had no time to be lonely—that was a pity. It would have made him so much more grateful———"
"—Psychologically," interrupted Mrs. Roche, "how interesting it all is, supposing it were true. Eve, of course, was at first no practical assistance to him. There were no chores, no mending. They didn't wear fig-leaves till after the Fall."
"That must have been nice," said Mrs. McKenna—"I mean the no fig-leaves. But inexpressive———"
"—Yes, inexpressive. I was going to say, rather impersonal."
"Oh, come, Gilda, if one's own skin isn't personal, what is!"
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