“Say, I mustn't keep you up all night,” he said. “But haven't we had a fine time—haven't we? I feel as if I'd been there.”
They had been there so entirely that Miss Alicia brought herself back with difficulty.
“I can scarcely believe that we have not,” she said. “I feel as if I didn't like to leave it. It was so delightful.” She glanced about her. “The room looks huge,” she said—“almost too huge to live in.”
“Doesn't it?” he answered. “Now you know how I feel.” He gathered his scraps of paper together with a feeling touch. “I didn't want to come back myself. When I get a bit of a grouch I shall jerk these out and go back there again.”
“Oh, do let me go with you!” she said. “I have so enjoyed it.”
“You shall go whenever you like,” he said. “We'll keep it up for a sort of game on rainy days. How much is a dollar, Miss Alicia?”
“Four and twopence. And sugar is six cents a pound.”
“Go to the head,” he answered. “Right again.”
The opened roll of newspapers was lying on the table near her. They were copies of The Earth, and the date of one of them by merest chance caught her eye.
“How odd!” she said. “Those are old papers. Did you notice? Is it a mistake? This one is dated” She leaned forward, and her eye caught a word in a head-line.