t, Philip. Why can't you teach me to feel and think
things like that?"

"You!" he murmured, as he took her arm and led her to the door. "You
could feel all the sweetest and most wonderful things in heaven. The
writer's knack is only a slight gift. I put on paper what lives in your
heart."

She raised her head, and he kissed her lips. For a moment he held her
quite quietly. Her arms encircled him. The perfume of her clothes, her
hair, her warm, gentle touch, seemed like a strong sedative. If she said
that he was safe, he must be. It was queer how so often at these times
their sexes seemed reversed; it was he who felt that womanly desire for
shelter and protection which she so amply afforded him. She patted his
cheek.

"Now for our little walk," she said. "Open the windows and let out all
these bad fancies of yours. And listen," she went on, as they stepped out
of the lift a moment or two later, and passed through the hall towards
the pavement, "not a word about our own problem. We are going to talk
nonsense. We are going to be just two light-hearted children in this
wonderful city, gazing at the sights and taking all she has to offer us.
I love it, you know. I love the noise of it. It isn't a distant, stifled
roar like London. There's a harsh, clarion-like note about it, like metal
striking upon metal. And the smell of New York--there isn't any other
city like it! When we get into Fifth Avenue I am going to direct your
attention to the subject of hats. Have you ever bought a woman's hat,
Philip?"

"Never," he answered, truthfully enough.

"Then you are going to this morning, or rather you are going to help me
to choose one," she declared, "and in a very few moments, too. There
is a little place almost underground in Fifth Avenue there, and a
Frenchwoman--oh, she is so French!--and all her assistants have black
hair and wear untidy, shapeless clothes and velvet slippers. It isn't New
York at all, but I love it, and I let them put their name on the
programme. They really don't charge me more than twice as much as they
ought to for my hats. We go down here," she added, descending some steps,
"and if you make eyes at any of the young women I shall bring you
straight out again."

They spent half an hour choosing a hat and nearly two hours over lunch.
It was late in the afternoon before she dropped him at his rooms. Not a
word had they spoken of Sylvanus Power or their future, but Philip was a
different man. Only, as h