over being that sort of people they'll act differently, but not before."
"That's a hair-splitting sort of argument," said Judy.
"Any more than you can help being a spinster," he explained, developing his theory. "Being the spinster type, you act accordingly. When you pull yourself together and make up your mind to be another type, you'll cease to be a spinster. But not before."
Judy sat down, facing him. It always amused her to discuss herself with Noel.
"Am I the spinster type?" she asked.
"Well, aren't you? It's fairly obvious. Look at this room! . . ."
"My dear boy," she retorted, "I'd have a room like this if I had ten husbands—or even lovers, for that matter. You'll have to do better than that. How else am I the spinster type, apart from my room?"
"You're a spinster in your mind," he asserted. "You think celibately."
"Oh, now you're being too ridiculous!" she scoffed.
He crossed his long legs and lit a cigarette.
"My dear girl, you don't understand thought. What you think, you are."
