inaptitude for normal sleep. "Do you know, we were married years
before I ever saw her sleep. I knew she did sleep, but I never saw
her. I've seen her go three days and nights without closing an eye and
keep sweet and cheerful all the time, and when she did sleep, it was
out of exhaustion. That was when the _All Away_ went ashore in
the Carolines and the whole population worked to get us off. It wasn't
the danger, for there wasn't any. It was the noise. Also, it was the
excitement. She was too busy living. And when it was almost all over,
I actually saw her asleep for the first time in my life."

A new guest had arrived that morning, a Donald Ware, whom Graham met
at lunch. He seemed well acquainted with all, as if he had visited
much in the Big House; and Graham gathered that, despite his youth, he
was a violinist of note on the Pacific Coast.

"He has conceived a grand passion for Paula," Ernestine told Graham as
they passed out from the dining room.

Graham raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, but she doesn't mind," Ernestine laughed. "Every man that comes
along does the same thing. She's used to it. She has just a charming
way of disregarding all their symptoms, and enjoys them, and gets the
best out of them in consequence. It's lots of fun to Dick. You'll be
doing the same before you're here a week. If you don't, we'll all be
surprised mightily. And if you don't, most likely you'll hurt Dick's
feelings. He's come to expect it as a matter of course. And when a
fond, proud husband gets a habit like that, it must hurt terribly to
see his wife not appreciated."