rom her temples in
two unmistakable horns. He had teased her about them in his shy, clumsy
way. A very subtle and sweet warmth emanated from her like a breath. It
took him back to the day when he had huddled close to her, hiccoughing
with grief and anger, and yet deeply, deliriously happy because she was
sorry for him. It made him giddy with a sense of unreality, as though
the present and the intervening years were only part of one of his night
stories, which, after their tiresome, undeviating custom, had got tangled
up in a monstrous, impossible dream. And then a new fancy took
possession of him. He wanted to bend closer to her and say, very
quietly, as though he were suggesting an order, "What about your
handkerchief? Do you want it back, Francey?"

Amidst his austerely disciplined thoughts the impulse was like a mad,
freakish intruder, and it frightened him, so that he drew back sharply.

"Cider-cup," she said. "It's my feast--and I like seeing the fruit and
pretending I can taste it. And then Howard won't get drunk and recite
poetry. Three orders, waiter."

He took the wine card, but she held it a moment longer, as though
something had suddenly attracted her attention. Their hands had almost
touched.

"Yes--three orders will be enough."

The company groaned, but submitted. In reality they were too stimulated
already by an invisible, exuberant spirit among them to care much. From
where he waited for Francey's order on the threshold of the pantry Robert
could see and hear them. It was really the old days over again.
Fundamentally things outside himself did not change much. The Brothers
Banditti had grown up. They were not nice children any more. The
innocent building-ground and nefarious plottings against unpopular
authority had given place to restaurants and more subtle wickednesses.
But still Francey played her queer, elusive role among them. She was of
them--and yet she stood a little apart, a little on one side. Probably
Howard thought himself their real leader. They did not talk to her
directly very much, nor she to them. But all the time they were playing
up to her, trying to draw her attention to themselves and make her laugh
with them. She did laugh. It did not seem to matter to her at all that
they were often crude and blatant and sometimes common in their
self-expression. She laughed from her heart. But her laughter was a
little different. It sat by itself, an elfish thing, wit