ans. With astrologer hats."

She regarded Hazlitt carelessly. Hazlitt, with fidgets in his thought,
smiled. His eyes lost their solicitous air. They began to search
shrewdly for some reason. The spectacle of a coquettish Rachel was
beyond him, even as the sound of her laugh was an amazing music to his
senses. But his shrewdness evaporated. It occurred to him that women
were peculiar. Particularly Rachel. A direct and vigorous Hazlitt
concluded that Rachel had succumbed to his superior guidance. There was
nothing else to explain her tolerance. He called it tolerance, for he
was still wary and her eyes shining eagerly, hungrily at him might be no
more than a new kind of neurasthenia. He let her talk on without
interruption. She would like to paint streets, houses, lights in the
dark, city things. Blowing puffs of smoke carelessly toward the ceiling
he answered finally, "If you didn't have to support yourself, perhaps
you could." A fear whirled in his heart with the sentence. He had never
asked her outright to marry him. The thought that he had almost asked
her, now made him feel dizzy.

"There! I guess that can rest now."

Rachel put aside her painting. She sat down near him. Her eyes narrowed
and she listened with a sleepy smile as he began carefully to recite to
her incidents that had happened during his day. But he became silent.
She didn't mind that. She desired to sit as she was, her emotion a
dream that escaped her thought. Hazlitt fumbled with his pipe. It was
out. He dropped it into a pocket. His shrewdness and his weariness had
left him. He felt almost that he was alone.

"You're wonderful," he whispered; and he grew frightened of his voice.
Rachel saw his face light with an unusual expression. He would be kind
now and let her smile.

"I'm glad you came," she sighed. "I don't know why. I feel different
to-night."

She had a habit of short, begrudging sentences delivered in a quick
monotone--a habit of speech against which Hazlitt had often raged. But
now her words--flurried, breathless, begrudging as always--stirred him.
They could be believed. She was a child that way. She spoke quickly
thoughts that were uppermost in her mind.

"I never thought I could be glad to see you. But I am."

Hazlitt felt suddenly weak. Her face before him was something in a
dream. It was turned away and he could watch her breathing. Bewilderedly
he remembered a thousand Rachels, different from this one, who was glad
he had co