"And did he find her?" I asked, curious for the rest of the story.
"After I got his note," said my companion, "I hunted him up at his apartments as soon as I could. He let me in himself, got out his cigars, and sat down opposite me fairly beaming. I looked him over—I had never before seen a man who seemed so supremely happy.
"'So,' I asked at last, 'you've found her?'
"'Yes,' he said; 'yes.'
"'The woman you were looking for?'
"'The very woman.'
"'That impossible ideal?'
"'An ideal, yes; but not impossible, since she exists in the flesh and I have found her.'
"'Well, you're a lucky dog,' I said. 'Tell me about her.'
"So he told me—quite a Laura Jean Libbey story. She was everything, it seemed, that could be desired in a woman.