He disappeared into the little room at the front of the house in search of his wife, and Katharine stood alone with Griggs in the entry. Again she looked at him with curiosity.
“You’re a very good-humoured person, Mr. Griggs,” she said, with a smile.
“You mean about Crowdie? Oh, I can stand a lot of his chaff—and he has to stand mine, too.”
“That was a very interesting answer you gave to my question about dreams,” said Katharine, leaning against the pillar of the banister.
“Was it? Let me see—what did I say?” He seemed to be absent-minded again.
“Come to luncheon!” cried Crowdie, reappearing with Hester at that moment. “You can talk metaphysics over the oysters.”
“Metaphysics!” exclaimed Griggs, with a smile.
“Oh, I know,” answered Crowdie. “I can’t tell the difference between metaphysics and psychics, and geography and Totem. It is all precisely the same to me—and it is to Griggs, if he’d only acknowledge it. Come along, Miss Lauderdale—to oysters and culture!”
Hester laughed at Crowdie’s good spirits, and Griggs smiled. He had large, sharp teeth, and Katharine thought of the wolf and the rabbit again. It was strange that they should be on such good terms.