I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock. Did you hear us through the archway, talking cookery?” They went up by the lift in silence. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane. All at once her heart began to patter queerly. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper.
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