had been in the habit of taking the booklet home in
order to read it aloud to Mabel. He never did it now. It was hopeless.
No insight. No sympathy. No appreciation. No anything. Blind and deaf
to beauty. But she really was a good housekeeper.

2

Luke bicycled from home to business every morning, and from business
to home every evening. He enjoyed this immensely. Every morning as he
rode off he said to himself: "Further from Mabel. Further and further
from Mabel. Every day, in every way, I'm getting further and further."
On his return journey in the evening he experienced the same relief in
getting further from old Cain, and further from the office.

At the middle point of his journey it always seemed to him that he did
not belong to the office any more, and that he did not belong to Mabel
either. He was all his own, in a world by himself. He would go on in a
snow-white ecstasy. Then he would get up, dust his clothes, and
re-mount.

He had some habits, which, to the stupid and censorious, might almost
seem childish. He cut for himself with his little hatchet a number of
pegs, and always carried some of them in his pocket. At every point on
the road where he fell off, he drove in a peg. It seemed to him a
splendid idea. In a wave of enthusiasm he told Mabel all about it.

"Isn't it absolutely splendid?" he asked.

"Dotty," said Mabel, briefly.

He went out into the woodshed and cut more pegs.

One Monday morning as he started on his ride he saw before him at
intervals all down the road little white specks. Yes, every one of
those pegs had been painted white by somebody.

Who could have done it? He decided at once that it must be Mabel. She
had repented of her harshness. She had made up her mind to try to
enter more into his secret soul. This was her silent way of showing
it. He determined that if this were so he would start kissing her
again that evening. It overcame him completely. He drove in one more
peg, and re-mounted.

"Mabel," he said that night at dinner, "It's good and sweet of you to
have painted all those pegs white. It must have taken you a long
time."

"Never touched your rotten old pegs," said Mabel. "Pass the salt."

His ears twitched.

3

Later that evening he sat alone in his bedroom. He also used this room
as a study. He had been driven to this somewhat frowsty practice by
the fact that he could not possibly sit in any room that had ever been
called a den.

A tap at the door. E