at
last succeeded in imposing coherence upon his wandering words.

"It's you who ... ought to be thanked," he answered. "You cheer me up."

"Do I?" Sally's tone was eager, her reply instant. "I'm so glad. I like
to feel I ... you know, cheer you. Does _me_ good."

They exchanged shy smiles, and parted; Gaga to resume his labours, Sally
to report his increasing sanity to Miss Summers. And then there followed
the unwanted hours that always lie between the making of a desired
appointment and the enjoyment of its arrival. Sally stitched with a
will, for her anticipations for this evening were not of an ambitious
kind. She knew all the time she was working that she looked forward to
the outing, and she was not at all puzzled at her own expectancy,
because in any case a dinner with Gaga would always make a break in her
often monotonous days and evenings. But she could never altogether fail
to make impulsive plans and it was as the result of unconscious
reflection that she checked Gaga in the course of their walk together.

"Don't let's go to the Rezzonico," she said, quickly. "Let's go
somewhere quiet."

As a result, they turned eastward, into the region of the smaller
restaurants, and looked at several before Sally picked one called "Le
Chat Blanc." It seemed to her to be the quietest and cleanest they had
seen, and at any rate it would be a new experience to dine there. The
doorway was modest, and the windows curtained low enough (in a red and
white check) to permit a glimpse of the small but shining interior.
Within, all was grey and white. Sally led the way into the place, and to
a remote table, and seated herself with an air of confidence remarkable
in one who dined, as it were, for the third time only. She glanced at
the two waitresses--both very dark girls with earrings, who wore their
black hair coiffed high upon their heads. They were Italians, agreeable
and inquisitive; and the food-smells also were Italian and full
flavoured. As soon as the two were seated they became the property of
one of the two waitresses, who stood over them so maternally that she
seemed to have no desire but for their good-fortune in choosing the meal
aright. She plunged both Sally and Gaga into a muddle by her persuasive
translations of the menu, but she made up for her linguistic
deficiencies by this anxious interest and by a capricious smile. Scared
and curious, they looked round the plain grey walls of the clean little
room, and at