be cooked!" sounded in her ears.
"No, I thank you," said Nannie audibly.
And she hurried down the avenue.
II
One evening a few weeks previous to the formation of the Young Woman's
Club--for an infant society of that name dated from the burlesque
meeting just described--Randolph Chance was seated in the room of his
nearest friend and was talking over the events of the day. Ordinarily
he was not free of speech, but with this man he could think aloud.
There are folk whose very presence is enough to shut one up with a
snap as the wrong touch closes the shell of a clam; there are others
who act upon us as heaven's own sun and dew act upon the flowers.
For a time after Randolph had taken his accustomed seat--an old chair
in an ingle-nook of the fireplace--he was silent, possibly through
physical disability, for there was no elevator at night, and nine
flights of stairs is not provocative of conversation; or he may have
been awed into silence, for he often told Steve that he was nearer
heaven than he would ever be again in all probability. Be that as it
may, he sat there enjoying his thoughts and the restful atmosphere of
the room. Quite unlike a bachelor's apartment, this; as unlike as many
another belonging to that particular branch of the _genus homo_--rooms
in which we would probably receive a mild shock and be compelled to
rebuild our entire structure of theories on the subject of the
helplessness, uncomfortableness, and general miserableness of that
specimen known as bachelor. To be sure, Steve Loveland was fortunate
in the selection of his rookery, but that might be called an outcome
of his genius--a genius with which bachelors are not supposed to be
blessed. At first glance, one who had no such gift for situation would
not have considered such a spot favorable for the construction of a
home--if this word may, for a moment, be snatched from the wedded
portion of the human race--but the artist in Steve recognized its
possibilities.
Carnot Fonnac, who originally reared and owned the building under
discussion, was himself a wretched, reprehensible bachelor, but being
also a Frenchman he possessed some taste; and intending to make his
abode in the sky-parlor of his structure, he so planned it that there
was a hint of grace and beauty in its arches and dimensions, as well
as of expanse. An English friend suggested the fireplace, and he had
the good sense to act upon thi
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