lled upon to explain
further.

"It makes it necessary for him to sit on the step constantly, you see.
And it's of chocolate. That's unfortunate, too, but it can't be
helped. It's all right in winter, of course, but in summer it's a
great deal of trouble. When we were first married he used to wear
black trousers in summer; but I soon put a stop to that. I have him
trained now so that he always wears white ones, and I set the
thermometer and remind him to change them every two hours. That's my
part of the bargain. He has forty-seven pairs. And, every time he
changes them, he has to shave. That's part of the agreement, too."

"Why," began Sara, "I thought he had--"

"To be sure he has," said Avrillia, looking a little amused. "It grows
so fast, you see."

Sara turned this over in her mind for several moments. Then her
thoughts returned to the step. She simply couldn't help making
suggestions to Avrillia. She seemed, for all her little haughty
politenesses, so helpless.

"You might put something over it--" she began.

"I have suggested that," said Avrillia, "but he would not consent to
it. He says it would be circumnavigating Nature. Of course, when it's
necessary to offer it to guests--"

But just at that moment Pirlaps himself came out of the house, wearing
a fresh, immaculate pair of trousers. His little pointed beard was
gone; but Sara thought she could see it already coming back. Yassuh
came along behind him, carrying the step.

"You see, marriage is very civilizing, Sara," he said, in his gay,
kind way. "I wouldn't do this for anybody but Avrillia. How's the
poetry, Avrillia?"

"Doing nicely, thank you," said Avrillia, pleasantly. "How's the
painting?"

"Flourishing," said Pirlaps, cheerfully. "How are the children?"

"I haven't seen them this week," said Avrillia. "I vanished them last
Roseday."

Pirlaps' face fell a little--perhaps an inch, altogether. But Sara
cried out, clapping her hands again with impunity (try doing it that
way, sometime--it's great fun),

"Oh, are there children?"

"Yes," said Avrillia.

"How many?"

"Oh, about seventy," said Avrillia, a little languidly.

"May--may I see them?" asked Sara.

"I hope so," said Avrillia. "Perhaps you'll come some day when they're
not vanished."

Sara, somehow, felt herself to have been politely dismissed; and she
soon found herself walking beside Pirlaps down the little marble
stairs. She slipped her hand into his as she would into he