ainable..." He looked at his cigarette case,
polishing it with a thumb. Seeming to think better of smoking just
then, however, he returned the case to his vest pocket.

Gretchen's smile was thin. She inclined her head, acknowledging the
truth of what he said--they were indeed probably of an age. Certainly,
she thought he could be no more than thirty-three or thereabouts.
"Then, too, music, while an engaging diversion, and the source of much
happiness, is better shared, wouldn't you say Professor?" He nodded
slightly, and Gretchen clarified her statement. "That is to
say--practicing is all very well, but...the joy of music is in sharing
it with one's friends--musical soirees and evenings in the parlor with
a roaring fire. Old friends gathered around the piano--and
champagne!--"

Professor Bridwell warmed to her words, and rubbed his hands together
as if before the very fire she had mentioned. "You have hit it
precisely," he replied with enthusiasm. "Why--it's no wonder that
living, as I do, alone in a house that I fear is far too large for..."

Gretchen thought she detected the professor falter just then, and there
was the slightest of pauses in his speech.

"... For myself alone, you see," he finished. He laughed at himself,
tossing the black mop of hair to one side. "But I needed some place
instantly when I arrived here. I will probably find smaller digs in a
year or so, when I've come to know the city more intimately."

"Indeed," Gretchen answered, returning his smile. "I quite understand
how one needs permanent lodgings--the more quickly one can find them in
a strange city, why, the quicker one is able to settle into life, get
one's bearings in a foreign port."

"So true," he replied with a firm nod.

A few moments later, a juncture seemed to have been reached in their
conversation. Their coffees were at an end, and neither of them had
touched their cups for what seemed ages, so engaged had they become in
their conversation.

"But now," Professor Bridwell exclaimed, with a glance to his pocket
watch, "I should not be keeping you away from your supper or--or your
other duties any longer. Please allow me to escort you home, Miss
Haviland--or where you may be going."

"Thank you, Professor--but really there is no need," she declared. She
thought that sounded too firm, and she smiled easily, to show that she
meant it only literally, not as a rebuff. "My rooms are close by, and
the evening air