Drouet hesitated, now that he was in her presence, uncertain as
to what course to pursue. He was no diplomat. He could neither
read nor see.

"When did you get home?" he asked foolishly.

"Oh, an hour or so ago. What makes you ask that?"

"You weren't here," he said, "when I came back this morning, and
I thought you had gone out."

"So I did," said Carrie simply. "I went for a walk."

Drouet looked at her wonderingly. For all his lack of dignity in
such matters he did not know how to begin. He stared at her in
the most flagrant manner until at last she said:

"What makes you stare at me so? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he answered. "I was just thinking."

"Just thinking what?" she returned smilingly, puzzled by his
attitude.

"Oh, nothing--nothing much."

"Well, then, what makes you look so?"

Drouet was standing by the dresser, gazing at her in a comic