"
A half-confidential, half fraternal silence followed.
"I tell you what. I've got a book"--
"I know it," interrupted Teresa; "full of these things."
"Yes. Do you think you could"--
"Of course I could," broke in Teresa, again.
"But you don't know what I mean," said the imperturbable Low.
"Certainly I do. Why, find 'em, and preserve all the different ones for
you to write under--that's it, isn't it?"
Low nodded his head, gratified but not entirely convinced that she had
fully estimated the magnitude of the endeavor.
"I suppose," said Teresa, in the feminine postscriptum voice which it
would seem entered even the philosophical calm of the aisles they were
treading--"I suppose that _she_ places great value on them?"
Low had indeed heard Science personified before, nor was it at all
impossible that the singular woman walking by his side had also. He
said "Yes;" but added, in mental reference to the Linnean Society of
San Francisco, that "_they_ were rather particular about the rarer
kinds."
Content as Teresa had been to believe in Low's tender relations with
some favored _one_ of her sex, this frank confession of a plural
devotion staggered her.
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