“You make life seem such a breathless affair,” she was saying.
“It is such a wonderful affair,” he answered.
“It had always seemed to me here rather humdrum.”
“And now?”
“The sunsets,” she faltered, “the sunsets are such nesting-places of fancies.”
“So is everywhere; so is this old library.”
“But the kitchen,” she put in quickly, “is a place of stern realities. I must go at once.”
No one could leave more abruptly when her mind was upon it. Before he had gathered his wits together she had gone.
“It is,” he determined with a sigh, “the curse of the cook-stove. The Acme has worked its spell again.”
With the map before him, he settled himself to explore more in detail this new country which lay immediately before him. In this the map itself did not help him except to afford a convenient resting-place for his elbows.