ut into the hall a few minutes later to go to the
library for a book, and found that her door which he had to pass was
wide open. She was sitting back in a Morris chair, her feet upon another
chair, her skirts slightly drawn up revealing a trim foot and ankle. She
did not stir but looked up and smiled winningly.

"Aren't you tired enough to sleep?" he asked.

"Not quite yet," she smiled.

He went down stairs and turning on a light in the library stood looking
at a row of books reading the titles. He heard a step and there she was
looking at the books also.

"Don't you want a bottle of beer?" she asked. "I think there is some in
the ice box. I forgot that you might be thirsty."

"I really don't care," he said. "I'm not much for drinks of any kind."

"That's not very sociable," she laughed.

"Let's have the beer then," he said.

She threw herself back languidly in one of the big dining room chairs
when she had brought the drinks and some Swiss cheese and crackers, and
said: "I think you'll find some cigarettes on the table in the corner if
you like."

He struck her a match and she puffed her cigarette comfortably. "I
suppose you find it lonely up here away from all your friends and
companions," she volunteered.

"Oh, I've been sick so long I scarcely know whether I have any."

He described some of his imaginary ailments and experiences and she
listened to him attentively. When the beer was gone she asked him if he
would have more but he said no. After a time because he stirred wearily,
she got up.

"Your mother will think we're running some sort of a midnight game down
here," he volunteered.

"Mother can't hear," she said. "Her room is on the third floor and
besides she doesn't hear very well. Dave don't mind. He knows me well
enough by now to know that I do as I please."

She stood closer to Eugene but still he did not see. When he moved away
she put out the lights and followed him to the stairs.

"He's either the most bashful or the most indifferent of men," she
thought, but she said softly, "Good-night. Pleasant dreams to you," and
went her way.

Eugene thought of her now as a good fellow, a little gay for a married
woman, but probably circumspect withal. She was simply being nice to
him. All this was simply because, as yet, he was not very much
interested.

There were other incidents. One morning he passed her door. Her mother
had already gone down to breakfast and there was the spectacle of a
s