"Well, at any rate, I shall have you properly on Monday."

"Yes."

"And please make a great effort about Thursday."

"Yes."

She drew him down to her, holding his face in her hands.

"It is silly to love at my time of life," she said; "I am too young. It
is like wearing a lovely new dress to climb mountains in."

"You will always be young," he said; "you are eternal."

It was his considered view; he wished she weren't. Kissing her a little
absently he walked to the door; then because he had always done so, he
walked back.

"Bless you," he said. It was perfunctory and final. The shutting of the
door turned out the light in her eyes.

"How tired I am!" she thought, and then--"Tuesday, Wednesday,
Thursday--Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday."




IX