they had built; he enjoyed Grant's
stories of funny incidents of the war which would crop out at unexpected
moments, and which were always good for a new pipe and a few minutes'
rest; he even essayed certain flights of his own, which showed that
Peter was a creature not entirely without humor. He developed an
appreciation of scenery; he would stand for long intervals gazing across
the valley. Grant was not deceived by these little devices, but he never
took Peter to task for his loitering. He was prepared almost to suspend
his rule that money must not be paid except for service rendered. "If
the old dodger isn't quite paying his way now, no doubt he has more than
paid it many times in the past," he mused. "This is an occasion upon
which to temper justice with mercy."

But it was in the planning and building of the house he found his real
delight. He laid it out on very modest lines, as became the amount of
money he was prepared to spend. It was to be a single-story bungalow,
with veranda round the south and west. The living-room ran across the
south side; into its east wall he built a capacious fireplace, with
narrow slits of windows to right and left, and in the western wall were
deep French windows commanding the magic of the view across the valley.
The dining-room, too, faced to the west, with more French windows to let
in sun and soul. The kitchen was to the east, and off the kitchen lay
Grant's bedroom, facing also to the east, as becomes a man who rises
early for his day's labors. And then facing the west, and opening off
the dining-room, was what he was pleased to call his whim-room.

The idea of the whim-room came upon him as he was working out plans on
the smooth side of a board, and thinking about things in general, and
a good deal about Phyllis Bruce, and wondering if he should ever run
across Zen Transley. It struck him all of a sudden, as had the Big Idea
that night when he was on his way home from Murdoch's house. He worked
it out surreptitiously, not allowing even old Peter to see it until
he had made it into his plan, and then he described it just as the
whim-room. But it was to be by all means the best room in the house;
special finishing and flooring lumber were to be bought for it; the
fireplace had to be done in a peculiarly delicate tile; the French
windows must be high and wide and of the most brilliant transparency....

The ring of the saw, the trill of the plane, the thwack of the hammer,
were