Barlasch held up a reproving hand. The question, he seemed to
think, was not quite delicate.

"I pay my own," he said. "Give and take--that is my motto. When
you have nothing to give . . . offer a smile."

With a gesture he indicated the bundle of firewood which Desiree
still absent-mindedly carried against her white dress. He turned
and opened a cupboard low down on the floor at the left-hand side of
the fireplace. He seemed to know by an instinct usually possessed
by charwomen and other domesticated persons of experience where the
firewood was kept. Lisa gave a little exclamation of surprise at
his impertinence and his perspicacity. He took the firewood,
unknotted his handkerchief, and threw his offering into the
cupboard. Then he turned and perceived for the first time that
Desiree had a bright ribbon at her waist and on her shoulders; that
a thin chain of gold was round her throat and that there were
flowers at her breast.

"A fete?" he inquired curtly.

"My marriage fete," she answered. "I was married half an hour ago."

He looked at her beneath his grizzled brows. His face was only
capable of producing one expression--a shaggy weather-beaten
fierceness. But, like a dog which can express more than many human
beings, by a hundred instinctive gestures he could, it seemed,
dispense with words on occasion and get on quite as well without
them. He clearly disapproved of Desiree's marriage, and drew her