under the white glare
of an electric ball, and let Roeder do the talking. Her thoughts,
in spite of the entertainment she was deriving from her present
experiences, would go back to the babies. She saw them tucked well in
bed, each in a little iron crib, with the muslin curtains shielding
their rosy faces from the light. She wondered if Jack were reading alone
in the library or was at the club, or perhaps at the summer concert,
with the swell of the violins in his ears. Jack did so love music.
As she thought how delicate his perceptions were, how he responded to
everything most subtle in nature and in art, of how life itself was a
fine art with him, and joy a thing to be cultivated, she turned with a
sense of deep compassion to the simple man by her side. His rough face
looked a little more unattractive than usual. His evening clothes were
almost grotesque. His face wore a look of solitude, of hunger.

"What were you saying?" she said, dreamily. "I beg your pardon."

"I was sayin' how I used t' dream of sittin' on the steps of a hotel
like this, and not havin' a thing t' do. When I used t' come down here
out of the gulch, and see men who had had good dinners, an' good baths,
sittin' around smokin', with money t' go over there t' th' bookstan' an'
get anythin' they'd want, it used t' seem t' me about all a single man
could wish fur."

"Well, you've got it all now."

"But I didn't any of th' time suppose that would satisfy a man long.
Only I was so darned tired I couldn't help wantin' t' rest. But I'm not
so selfish ur s' narrow as to be satisfied with THAT. No, I'm not goin'
t' spend m' pile that way--quite!"

He laughed out loud, and then sat in silence watching Kate as she lay
back wearily in her chair.

"I've got t' have that there garden," he said, laughingly. "Got t' get
them roses. An' I'll have a big bath-house,--plenty of springs in this
country. You ken have a bath here that won't freeze summer NOR winter.
An' a baby! I've got t' have a baby. He'll go with th' roses an' th'
bath." He laughed again heartily.

"It's a queer joke, isn't it?" Roeder asked. "Talkin' about my baby, an'
I haven't even a wife." His face flushed and he turned his eyes away.

"Have I shown you the pictures of my babies?" Kate inquired. "You'd like
my boy, I know. And my girl is just like me,--in miniature."

There was a silence. She looked up after a moment. Roeder appeared to be
examining the monogram on his ring as if he had n