Bonnell's mental questions were answered by her manner. He put his hand in the pocket of his sack coat and drew out a small, thin, black book.
Eloise took it. “'Unity of Good,'” she read on its cover. “I haven't seen this one,” she said eagerly.
“You will,” he replied.
She looked up. “Do you know, I thought just now you were going to take out your pipe?” she said naively. “That's where you used to keep it.”
“My pipe doesn't like me any more,” he rejoined quietly.
“Are you happy, Nat?” she asked, scrutinizing his face with childlike, searching eyes.
“I was never a very solemn codger, was I?” he returned.
“But are you happier? Does the world look different? Of course it does, with your mother well.”
“Oh yes,” he answered in a changed tone, tossing his head back, and making a gesture as of throwing away something. “There was nothing in it before, nothing in it.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” she returned comprehendingly.