"No--Pleurodira--have yet been found,"

he began.

"Yes--isn't that too bad?" sighed little Eve Edgarton.

"It doesn't matter personally to me," admitted Barton. Hastily he
moved on to the next sentence.

"The Amphichelydia--are known there by only the genus Baena,"

he read.

"Two described species: B. undata and B. arenosa, to which was
added B. hebraica and B. ponderosa--"

Petulantly he slammed the whole handful of papers to the floor.

"Eve!" he stammered. "I can't stand it! I tell you--I just can't stand
it! Take my attic if you want to! Or my cellar! Or my garage! Or
anything else of mine in the world that you have any fancy for! But
for Heaven's sake--"

With extraordinarily dilated eyes Eve Edgarton stared out at him from
her white pillows.

"Why--why, if it makes you feel like that--just to read it," she
reproached him mournfully, "how do you suppose it makes me feel to
have to write it? All you have to do--is to read it," she said. "But
I? I have to write it!"