At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. ’ ‘Your plan, then. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. ” She barked. “The twins were left with his sister, Cris. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. ’ ‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it.
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