Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. I’m not that sort I quite agree. But—Miss Pellissier!” “Well?” “Are you quite sure that you want us this evening? Wouldn’t you rather be alone? Just say the word, and we’ll clear out like a shot. It begins with that queer piccolo solo. Her moods were many and always striking. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms.
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