"She believes in all the things that you scoff at--she believes in the
soul, in people, and in love--"

He made a protest of mock dismay. "My dear girl, I've been too hard hit
by love not to believe in it. On the contrary, I believe in it so firmly
that I think the only sure cure for it is marriage."

At her swift movement of aversion his laughing glance made a jest of the
words, and she smiled back at him with the fantastic humour which had
become almost her natural manner. It was a habit of his to treat
sportively even the subjects which he reverenced, and in reality she had
sometimes felt him to be less of a sober cynic than herself. He took his
pleasures where he found them, and there was a touch of pathos in the
generous eagerness with which he was ready to provide as well for the
pleasures of others. If he lacked imagination she had learned by now
that he did not fail in its sister virtue, sympathy, and his keen gray
eyes, which expressed so perfectly a gay derision, were not slow, she
knew, to warm into a smiling tenderness.

"Laura is the most earnest creature alive," she said after a moment.

"Is that so? Then I presume she lacks a sense of humour."

"She has a sense of honour at any rate."

With a laugh he settled his figure more comfortably in his chair, and
while she watched the movement, a little fascinated by its easy freedom,
she felt a sudden impulse to reach out and touch his broad, strong
shoulders as she might have touched the shoulders of a statue. Were they