deal
of the work."

"I'll bet you do," said Ninian, and did not perceive that anything had
been violated. "What's your name?" he bethought.

She was in an immense and obscure excitement. Her manner was serene, her
hands as they went on with the peeling did not tremble; her replies were
given with sufficient quiet. But she told him her name as one tells
something of another and more remote creature. She felt as one may feel
in catastrophe--no sharp understanding but merely the sense that the
thing cannot possibly be happening.

"You folks expect me?" he went on.

"Oh, yes," she cried, almost with vehemence. "Why, we've looked for you
every day."

"'See," he said, "how long have they been married?"

Lulu flushed as she answered: "Fifteen years."

"And a year before that the first one died--and two years they were
married," he computed. "I never met that one. Then it's close to twenty
years since Bert and I have seen each other."

"How awful," Lulu said, and flushed again.

"Why?"

"To be that long away from your folks."

Suddenly she found herself facing this honestly, as if the immensity of
her present experience were clarifying her understanding: Would it be so
awful to be away from Bert and Monona and Di--yes, and Ina, for twenty
years?

"You think that?" he laughed. "A man don't know what he's like till he's
roamed around on his own." He liked the sound of it. "Roamed around on
his own," he repeated, and laughed again. "Course a woman don't know
that."

"Why don't she?" asked Lulu. She balanced a pie on her hand and carved
the crust. She was stupefied to hear her own question. "Why don't she?"

"Maybe she does. Do you?"

"Yes," said Lulu.

"Good enough!" He applauded noiselessly, with fat hands. His diamond
ring sparkled, his even white teeth flashed. "I've had twenty years of
galloping about," he informed her, unable, after all, to transfer his
interests from himself to her.

"Where?" she asked, although she knew.

"South America. Central America. Mexico. Panama." He searched his
memory. "Colombo," he superadded.

"My!" said Lulu. She had probably never in her life had the least desire
to see any of these places. She did not want to see them now. But she
wanted passionately to meet her companion's mind.

"It's the life," he informed her.

"Must be," Lulu breathed. "I----" she tried, and gave it up.

"Where you been mostly?" he asked at last.

By this unprecedented interest in her doing