"Well," I confessed, "I scarcely know myself—studied, played music, read books, written books, traveled—"
"Fine views of life, you have. You have always done the difficult and complicated things and the simple ones you haven't even learned. No time, of course. More amusing things to do. Well, thank God, I'm not your mother. But to do as you do and then say you've tested life to the bottom and found nothing in it is going a bit too far."
"Don't scold me," I implored. "It isn't as if I didn't know I was mad."
"Oh, don't make a song of your sufferings. You are no madman, Professor. You're not half mad enough to please me. It seems to me you're much too clever in a silly way, just like a professor. Have another roll. You can tell me some more later."
She got another roll for me, put a litt
