that, but I _do_ take life comf'tabul. The' ain't a place anywheres
'round to set and rest, is the'? You look to me kind o' used up."

"I am tired--a little. Come. There won't be any one here." She led the
way into a small room beyond. A bench facing the large room was vacant,
and they sat down on it. Through the vista of the open door they could
see two of Alan's pictures. They sat in silence for a few minutes,
watching the crowd come and go in front of the pictures. She turned to
him at last with a little smile. "They are making a hit," she said.

"Be they?" He peered at them intently. His face softened. "They'd o't
to. They're nice picters."

"Yes." She had started forward a little, her breath coming swiftly. "Do
you see that man--the tall one with the gray hair and pointed beard?"

Uncle William adjusted his spectacles. "That kind o' peaked one, you
mean, that dips along some like a government lighter?"

She laughed out, her hands moving with little gestures of pleasure.
"That's the one. I know him."

"Do you?" Uncle William looked at him again politely. "He has a good
deal o' trimmin' on, but he looks like a nice sort o' man."

"He is--he is--if he's the one I think--"

The man, who wore on his coat the decoration of several orders, had
turned a little and was looking back over the crowd.