anaged to cajole her way back to her mooring.

Dinner was ready by the time the hungry threesome, laughing and
talking, arrived at the cottage. Howard, spoiling for a cocktail, made
for the small square dining-room, and Irene, waving her hand to
Tootles, cried out, "Cheero, dearie, you missed a speedy trip, I don't
think," and took her into the house to tidy up in the one bathroom.
Martin drew up short on the edge of the stoop, listened and looked
about, holding his breath. It was most odd, but--there was something in
the still air that had the sense of Joan in it.

After a moment, during which his very soul asked for a sight of her, he
stumped into the living room and rang the bell impatiently.

The imperturbable Judson appeared at once, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"Has any one been here while I've been away?" asked Martin.

"No, sir. No one except Miss Capper, who's been reading on the stoop."

"You're quite sure?"

"You never can be quite sure about anything in this life, sir, but I
saw no one."

"Oh," said Martin. "All right, then." But when he was alone, he stood
again, listening and looking. There was nothing of Joan in the room. A
mixture of honeysuckle and tobacco and the aroma of cooking that had
slipped through the swing door into the the kitchen. That was all. And
Martin sighed deeply and said to himself "Not yet. I must go on
waiting," and went upstairs to his bedroom. He could hear Irene's voice
above the rush of water in the bathroom and Howard's, outside, raised
in song. In the trees outside his window a bird was piping to its mate,
and in the damp places here and there the frogs had already begun to
try their voices for their community chorus. It was a peaceful earth,
thereabouts falsely peaceful. An acute ear could easily have detected
an angry roar of guns that came ever nearer and nearer, and caught the
whisper of a Voice calling and calling.

When Martin returned to the wood-lined sitting room with its large
brick chimney, its undergraduate chairs and plain oak furniture, its
round thick blue and white mats and disorderly bookcase, Tootles was
there, a Tootles with a high chin, a half defiant smile, and
honeysuckle at her belt.

"Tootles."

"Yes?"

"Have you been alone all the afternoon?"

"Yes." (Fight? Tooth and nail.) "Except for the flies.... Why, boy?"

"Oh, nothing. I thought--I mean, I wondered--but it doesn't matter. By
gum, you have made the room look smart, haven't you?