"I've never thought much
about it, doctor. But I should say, on the spur of the moment, that that
is one of the principal differences between people anywhere. It's the
consolation of fellows like me who don't accomplish much. The fourth
dimension is not good for business, but we think we have a better time."

Dr. Archie leaned back in his chair. His heavy shoulders were
contemplative. "And she," he said slowly; "should you say that she is
one of the kind you refer to?" He inclined his head toward the shimmer
of the pale-green dress beside him. Thea was leaning, just then, over
the balcony rail, her head in the light from the chandeliers below.

"Never, never!" Fred protested. "She's as hard-headed as the worst of
you--with a difference."

The doctor sighed. "Yes, with a difference; something that makes a good
many revolutions to the second. When she was little I used to feel her
head to try to locate it."

Fred laughed. "Did you, though? So you were on the track of it? Oh, it's
there! We can't get round it, miss," as Thea looked back inquiringly.
"Dr. Archie, there's a fellow townsman of yours I feel a real kinship
for." He pressed a cigar upon Dr. Archie and struck a match for him.
"Tell me about Spanish Johnny."

The doctor smiled benignantly through the first waves of smoke. "Well,
Johnny's an old patient of mine, and he's an old admirer of Thea's. She
was born a cosmopolitan, and I expect she learned a good deal from
Johnny when she used to run away and go to Mexican Town. We thought it a
queer freak then."

The doctor launched into a long story, in which he was often eagerly
interrupted or joyously confirmed by Thea, who was drinking her coffee
and forcing open the petals of the roses with an ardent and rather rude
hand. Fred settled down into enjoying his comprehension of his guests.
Thea, watching Dr. Archie and interested in his presentation, was
unconsciously impersonating her suave, gold-tinted friend. It was
delightful to see her so radiant and responsive again. She had kept her
promise about looking her best; when one could so easily get together
the colors of an apple branch in early spring, that was not hard to do.
Even Dr. Archie felt, each time he looked at her, a fresh consciousness.
He recognized the fine texture of her mother's skin, with the difference
that, when she reached across the table to give him a bunch of grapes,
her arm was not only white, but somehow a little dazzling. She seemed to