"They spring up, as your father would say, very much like weeds." "Indeed they do," she interpolated; "sometimes they grow in the middle of a gravel path where they cannot expect to be allowed to stay." I reflected a moment.

"I don't mind talking about these things to you," I said.

"It seems almost like talking to myself." "That is a compliment I appreciate," she said.

"And now go on.

Why do you care for her ?" "Well," said I, "in the first place, she is very handsome.