"Murphy? Who's he?"

"Oh, goodness, I don't know! The man who invented 'em, I suppose.
Murphy."

Raymond grinned in anticipation of his own forthcoming joke. "I should
think they'd call 'em Morphy beds." Then, at her blank stare. "You
know--short for Morpheus, god of sleep. Learned about him at high
school."

Cora still looked blank. Cora hardly ever understood Ray's jokes, or
laughed at them. He would turn, chuckling, to find her face a blank. Not
even bewildered, or puzzled, or questioning. Blank. Unheeding.
Disinterested as a slate.

Three days later Cora developed an acute pain in her side. She said it
was nothing. Just worn out with the work, and the worry and the
aggravation, that's all. It'll be all right.

Ray went with her to look at the Sheridan Road apartment. It was one
hundred and fifty dollars. "Phew!"

"But look at what you save? Gas. Light. Maid service. Laundry. It's
really cheaper in the end."

Cora was amazingly familiar with all the advantages and features of the
sixth-floor apartment. "The sun all morning." She had all the agent's
patter. "Harvey-Dickson ventilated double-spring mattresses. Dressing
room off the bathroom. No, it isn't a closet. Here's the closet. Range,
refrigerator, combination sink and laundry tub. Living room's all
panelled in ivory. Shower in the bathroom. Buffet kitchen. Breakfast
room has folding-leaf Italian table. Look at the chairs. Aren't they
darlings! Built-in book shelves----"

"Book shelves?"

"Oh, well, we can use them for fancy china and ornaments. Or--oh,
look!--you could keep your stuff there. Tools and all. Then the bathroom
wouldn't be mussy all the time."

"Beds?"

"Right here. Isn't that wonderful. Would you ever know it was there?
You can work it with one hand. Look."

"Do you really like it, Coral?"

"I love it. It's heavenly."

He stood in the centre of the absurd living room, a tall, lank, awkward
figure, a little stooped now. His face was beginning to be furrowed with
lines--deep lines that yet were softening, and not unlovely. He made you
think, somehow, as he stood there, one hand on his own coat lapel, of
Saint-Gaudens' figure of Lincoln, there in the park, facing the Drive.
Kindly, thoughtful, harried.

They moved in October first.

The over-stuffed furniture of the four-room apartment was sold. Cora
kept a few of her own things--a rug or two, some china, silver,
bric-a-brac, lamps. Queen Louise was now permanently dethroned. Cor