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Marten's style was more like random blows from a
sledge-hammer, half of them wide of the mark. It was not very edifying,
or even instructive. Keith was the same. Why was everybody so violent,
so extreme in their views?
Marten repeated:
"Sanidin?"
"It might be sanidin in places," replied Denis. "I do know a little
something about crystals, Marten. I have read Ruskin's ETHICS OF THE
DUST."
"Ruskin. Good god! He's not a man; he's an emetic. But you never
answered my first question. You always hit upon sanidin. Why?"
"Oh, I don't know. It's rather a pretty word, don't you think? It would
do for a Christian name. Girls' names are so terribly commonplace. They
are always Marjorie, or something. If I had a daughter, I should call
her Sanidin."
"You're not likely to find yourself in that position at this rate. If I
had a daughter, I know perfectly well what I should call her."
"What?"
"Angelina."
"You would?" asked Denis slowly. "And why?"
"Oh, it's rather a pretty name, don't you think?"
"Not a bad name at all, now I come to think of it.


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