"I'll take the risk of it," said the old man, harshly.

He rose mechanically, and Fulkerson said to Frescobaldi's man, "You can
bring us the coffee in the library."

The talk did not recover itself there. Landau would not sit down; he
refused coffee, and dismissed himself with a haughty bow to the company;
Colonel Woodburn shook hands elaborately all round, when he had smoked
his cigar; the others followed him. It seemed to March that his own
good-night from Dryfoos was dry and cold.




VII.

March met Fulkerson on the steps of the office next morning, when he
arrived rather later than his wont. Fulkerson did not show any of the
signs of suffering from the last night's pleasure which painted
themselves in March's face. He flirted his hand gayly in the air, and
said, "How's your poor head?" and broke into a knowing laugh. "You don't
seem to have got up with the lark this morning. The old gentleman is in
there with Conrad, as bright as a biscuit; he's beat you down. Well, we
did have a good time, didn't we? And old Lindau and the colonel, didn't
they have a good time? I don't suppose they ever had a chance before to
give their theories quite so much air. Oh, my! how they did ride over us!
I'm just going down to see Beaton about the cover of the Christmas
number. I think we ought to try it in three or four colors, if we are
going to observe the day at all." He was off before March could pull
himself together to ask what Dryfoos wanted at the office at that hour of