“Oh!” cried Rose-Ann. “What a lovely big room!”
“It is big,” said Felix.
“It’s splendid! A real room....” She drew a deep breath. “I could live in a place like this, Felix.”
The girl regarded her with respectful interest, and then turned to Felix. “Did you tell her about the sink?”
“Yes,” said Rose-Ann. “I know about the sink. But I think I’ll inspect the sanitary details right now, before I get any more enthusiastic.”
The two girls went back of the screen, talking excitedly. “Does the screen stay here?” Rose-Ann was asking. “Good! We’ll sleep back here—or make it a kitchen, and sleep out in front, I don’t know which....”
Felix lighted a cigarette, and laughed softly to himself at his own folly. So this was what Rose-Ann had wanted! This was the reality of that supposedly grandiose dream of hers, which had frightened him so much to think of making come true for her! This—twelve dollars a month—an iron sink—a Franklin stove!
So the destinies that presided over his fantastic fortunes had made good again.
How simple life was, after all!