that John McCormack at his best is capable of,

"Just a little love, a li--ttle kiss,
Just an hour that holds a world of bliss,
Eyes that tremble like the stars above me,
And the little word that says you love me."

It was a song that had tormented Rose before with the abysmal fatuity of
its phrases, its silly sloppy melody, and yet--this was the infuriating
thing--the way it had of getting into her, somehow, reaching bare nerves
and setting them all aquiver.

To-night it broke her down. She closed the windows, despite the
sultriness of the night, but the tune, having once got in, couldn't be
shut out. Whether she heard it or only fancied she did, didn't matter.
The words bored their way into her brain.

"Just a little love, a little kiss,
I would give you all my life for this,
As I hold you fast and bend above you ..."

It was a white night for Rose. The morning sun had been streaming into
her bedroom for an hour before she finally fell asleep. And at nine
o'clock, when she wakened, she heard the phonograph going again. It was
now on its way to Mandalay, but John McCormack was no doubt waiting in
the background. She went to the telephone and called up Galbraith,
telling him she'd come by the first train she could get.

He met her with a dog-cart and a fat pony, and when they had jogged
their way to their destination they spent what was left of the morning
looking over the farm. Then there was a midday farm dinner that Rose
astonished herself by dealing with as it deserved and by feeling sleepy
at the conclusion of. Galbraith caught her biting down a yawn and packed
her off to the big Gloucester swing in the veranda, the one addition
he'd built on the place, for a nap; and obediently she did as he bade
her.

Coming into the veranda about four o'clock, and finding her awake, he
suggested that they go for a walk. She had dressed, in anticipation of
this, in a short skirt and heavy walking boots, so they set out across
the fields. Two hours later, having swung her legs over a stone wall
that had a comfortably inviting flat top, she remained sitting there and
let her gaze rest, unfocused, on the pleasant farm land that lay below
them.

After a glance at her he leaned back against the wall at her side and
began filling his pipe. She dropped her hand on his nearer shoulder.
After all these months of friendship it was the first approach to a
caress that had passed between them.

"You're a good frien