possess heads a congenital idiot would be proud of, but we never find it out. Don't even show your ears, now. It isn't fair. But your friend over there—I could tell you a whole lot about him just by looking at the back of his head."
"Oh, he's a devil if you like," said the unhappy Connie, "but I love him. And he loved me, once. I'd die for him."
"Neurotic," Noel told her.
"Call it what you like. I'd rather spend five minutes with him than a lifetime with any one else."
"I'd like to spend five minutes with him myself," said Noel. "Alone. Oh," remembering his empty sleeve, "I expect he'd wipe up the floor with me, but I'd tell him a few simple, home truths first."
"I tell you, Noel, ordinary rules of conduct don't apply to men like Petrovitch. He's a genius, a heaven-born genius. You've never even heard him play. There's nothing like it—there never has been anything like it. Oh, yes, he's made me suffer, but I forgive him for it, because he's a king among men."
"A king! My good aunt, pull yourself together and observe the way he eats asparagus. There! I knew it . . . he's dribbled some of the
