irst to complain if I invited the cook up here."

"Give her and her children education for three generations----"

She was perfectly unreasonable, and right in most of the things she
said. He was perfectly unreasonable, and right in all of the things he
said. Their argument was absurdly hot, and hurt them pathetically. It
was difficult, at first, for Carl to admit that he was at odds with
his playmate. Surely this was a sham dissension, of which they would
soon tire, which they would smilingly give up. Then, he was trying not
to be too contentious, but was irritated into retorting. After fifteen
minutes they were staring at each other as at intruding strangers, he
remembering the fact that she was a result of city life; she the fact
that he wasn't a product of city life.

And a fact which neither of them realized, save subconsciously, was in
the background: Carl himself had come in a few years from Oscar
Ericson's back yard to Ruth Winslow's library--he had made the step
naturally, as only an American could, but it was a step.

She was loftily polite. "I'm afraid you can't quite understand what
the niceties of life mean to people like Phil. I'm sorry he won't give
them up to the first truck-driver he meets, but I'm afraid he won't,
and occasionally it's necessary to face facts! Niceties of the kind he
has gr----"

"_Nice!_"

"Really----" Her heavy eyebrows arched in a frown.

"If you're going to get 'nice' on me, of course you'll have to be
condescending, and that's one thing I won't permit."

"I'm afraid you'll find that one has to permit a great many things.
Sometimes, apparently, I must permit great rudeness."

"Have I been rude? Have----"

"Yes. Very."

He could endure no more. "Good night!" he growled, and was gone.

He was frightened to find himself out of the house; the door closed
between them; no going back without ringing the bell. He couldn't go
back. He walked a block, slow, incredulous. He stood hesitant before
the nearest corner drug-store, shivering in the March wind, wondering
if he dared go into the store and telephone her. He was willing to
concede anything. He planned apt phrases to use. Surely everything
would be made right if he could only speak to her. He pictured himself
crossing the drug-store floor, entering the telephone-booth, putting
five cents in the slot. He stared at the red-and-green globes in the
druggist's window; inspected a display of soaps, and recollected the
fact tha