"Do you mean that you were sorry for him?"

"Oh, dear, no. Why should I be? He looked so odious all smeared with
tears."

Arnaud Hallet returned promptly: "Linda, you're a little beast." To
counteract his rude speech he kissed her again. "This," he said with
less security, "threatens to become a habit. I thought, at forty-five,
that I was safely by the island of sirens, but I'll be on the rocks
before I know it."

She laughed with the cool remoteness of running water.

"I wonder you haven't been murdered," he proceeded, "in a moonless
garden by an elderly lawyer. Do you ever think of the lyric day
when, preceded by a flock of bridesmaids and other flowery pagan
truck, you'll meet justice?"

"Marriage?" she asked. "But of course. I have everything perfectly
planned--"

"Then, my dear Linda, describe him."

"Very straight," she said, "with beautiful polished shoes and
brushed hair."

"You ought to have no trouble finding that. Any number of my friends
have one--to open the door and take your things. I might arrange a
very satisfactory introduction for everybody concerned--a steady man
well on his way to preside over the pantry and table."