They drifted from letters to the curiosities of each other's day.

"Whose tea was it?"

"People named Abercrombie."

"Why'd you stay late? Meet a luscious debutante?"

"Yes."

"Did you really?" Anthony's voice lifted in surprise.

"Not a debutante exactly. Said she came out two winters ago in Kansas
City."

"Sort of left-over?"

"No," answered Maury with some amusement, "I think that's the last thing
I'd say about her. She seemed--well, somehow the youngest person there."

"Not too young to make you miss a train."

"Young enough. Beautiful child."

Anthony chuckled in his one-syllable snort.

"Oh, Maury, you're in your second childhood. What do you mean by
beautiful?"

Maury gazed helplessly into space.