anywhere," he said, "only it's sometimes out of season. If I had
my way--and millions--I should run a newspaper. Then all the
excitements would come to me. As it is--I'm poor, and so I have
to go all over the world after them."

This agreeable theory of life had worked well; he was a little
bored at times--not because he had seen too much, but because
there were not more things left to see. He had managed somehow
to keep his enthusiasms through everything--and they made life
worth living. He felt too a certain elation--like a spirited
horse--at turning toward home, but Washington had not much to
offer him, and the thrill did not last. His big bag and his
hatbox--pasted over with foolish labels from continental hotels
--were piled in the corner of his compartment, and he settled back
in his seat with a pleasurable sense of expectancy. The presence
in the next room of a very smart appearing young woman was
prominent in his consciousness. It gave him an uneasiness which
was the beginning of delight. He had seen her for only a second
in the passageway, but that second had made him hold himself a
little straighter. "Why is it," he wondered, "that some girls
make you stand like a footman the moment you see them?" Grenfall
had been in love too many times to think of marriage; his habit
of mind was still general, and he classified women broadly. At
the same time he had a feeling that in this case generalities did
not apply well; there was something about the girl that made him
hesitate at labelling her "Class A, or B, or Z." What it was he
did not know, but--unaccountably-she filled him with an affected
formality He felt like bowing to her with a grand air and much
dignity. And yet he realized that his successes had come from
confidence.