There was the inevitable letdown.
May said, with a yawn, "I need a nice, long rest. And I know just where I'm going to find it. After we get back to King Town. I'm going to take a room at that hotel near the National Library."
Felix asked, "Why?"
"Why? I'll be like a kid in a candy warehouse. Do you realize that on the second floor of the National Library is the largest collection of 19th century English novels which I have ever seen in any one place? EVerything EVer written by EVerybody. Mrs. Edgeworth, Mrs. Trollope, Mrs. Gaskell, Mrs. Oliphant, Mrs. This and Mrs. That."
"Mrs. That. I remember her. Say, she wasn't bad at all—"
"No, she wasn't. Although, personally, I prefer Mrs. This."
Felix and Limekiller found that they were looking at each other. Speak now, he told himself. Aren't you tired of holding your own piece? "And what are you going to be doing, then?" he asked.
She considered. Said she wasn't sure.
There was a silence.
"Did I tell you about my boat?"
"No. You didn't." Her look at him was a steady one. She didn't seem impatient. She seemed to have all the time in the world. "Tell me about your boat," she said.