that seemed literal: tea-cups, _petit gateau_, the whole service
gave the fancy of his sitting down to a tea-party given by a little
girl for her dollies.

But after a time he fell silent, looking around the room. And when
he broke that pause his voice was different.

"These women here, all dressed so fine, nothing to do but sit around
and eat this folderol, _they_ have it easy--don't they?"

The bitterness in it, and a faint note of wistfulness, puzzled her.
Certainly _he_ had money.

"And the husbands of these women," he went on; "lots of 'em, I
suppose, didn't always have so much. Maybe some of these women
helped out in the early days when things weren't so easy. Wonder if
the men ever think how lucky they are to be able to get it back at
'em?"

She grew more bewildered. Wasn't he "getting it back?" The money he
had been spending that day!

"Young Lady," he said abruptly, "you must think I'm a queer one."

She murmured feeble protest.

"Yes, you must. Must wonder what I want with all this stuff, don't
you?"

"Why, it's for your wife, isn't it?" she asked, startled.