It's mild enough to
sit out on the terrace."
She met him with her levelest gaze.
"Aren't you going to be comfortable here?"
"Of course I am. There you go, getting sensitive right off. Only it is
a warmish evening, and why keep the sun-child awake?"
"Zoe can sleep," she said, with the barely perceptible arch to her
brows, "even through the fire of your presence."
"Good!" he said, seating himself in great good nature and trying not to
be quizzical. "So this is where you live."
He was frankly curious, his gaze humorous, but traveling over details,
his head upflung and the scenting movement to his nostrils. He had not
changed in weight, but in compactness and as if the house of his being
had settled with a fine kind of firmness. He was a bit squarer of jaw
and shoulder and ever so prematurely, and to the enormous fancy of
women, inclined to a hoar frost of gray at the temples.
She seated herself across the little square of table.
"You don't seem to care for us here."
"Certainly I do, only--only--"
"Only what?"
"Only--well, hanged if I make you out, lady. This place--it just isn't
you--that's all.
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