She expounded her little thesis in considerable detail, and at the end
he said:--
"As I've told you, Fifi, my first duty is toward my book--to give it to
the cause of civilization at the earliest possible moment. Therefore,
the whole question is one of time, rather than of deliberate personal
inclination. At present I literally cannot afford to give time to
matters which, while doubtless pleasant enough in their fashion--"
"That's what you would have said about the exercise, two months ago. And
now look, how it's helped you! And then, Mr. Queed--are you happy?"
Surprised and a little amused, he replied: "Really, I've never stopped
to think. I should say, though, that I was perfectly content."
Fifi laughed and coughed. "There's a big difference--isn't there? Why,
it's just like the exercise, Mr. Queed. Before you began it you were
just _not sick_; now you are _very well_. That's the difference between
content and happiness. Now I," she ran on, "am very, very happy. I wake
up in the mornings _so_ glad that I'm alive that sometimes I can hardly
bear it, and all through the day it's like something singing away inside
of me! Are you like that?"
No, Mr.
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