have set Eleanor's teeth on edge, except that she was so absorbed in the
thrill of being back under the roof which had sheltered them in those
first days of bliss.

"Do you _remember_?" she said, significantly.

Maurice, looking after suitcases and hand bags, said, absently,
"Remember what?" She told him "what" and he said: "Yes. Where do you
want this trunk put, Eleanor?"

She sighed; to sentimentalize and receive no response in kind, is like
sitting down on a chair which isn't there. After dinner, when she and
Maurice came up to their room, which had fusty red hangings and a
marble-topped center table standing coldly under a remote chandelier,
she sighed again, for Maurice said that, as for this hole of a hotel,
the only thing _he_ thought of, was how soon they could get out of it!
"I can get that little house I told you about, only it's rather out of
the way. Not many of your kind of people 'round!"

She knelt down beside him, pushing his newspaper aside and pressing her
cheek against his. "_That_ doesn't make any difference!" she said; "I'm
glad not to know anybody. I just want you! I don't want people."

"Neither do I," Maurice agreed; "I'd have to shell out my cigars to 'em
if they were men!"

"Oh, is that your reason?" she said, laughing.

"Say, Star, would you mind moving? I was just reading--"