she said, “and I was sixteen at the time.”

“You are positively venerable, then; and since you are, I must be too.”

“I am much older than you are,” she said; “not in years, but in life. You don’t feel old.”

“And do you?”

“Frightfully.”

“What brings it on?”

“Oh! Experience — and other things. It is the soul which grows old.”

“But you have been happy?”

“Never — never in my life, except when I was singing, have I been happy. Have you been happy?”