"Well, I feel a little that way myself," he confessed.
"But there is so little to see here in Tyre at any time—no music, no theatres. I like theatres, don't you?"
"I can't go half enough."
"But nothing worth seeing ever comes into these little towns—and then we're all so poor, anyway."
The lamp, turned low, was emitting a terrible odor as they entered the sitting-room.
"My goodness! it's almost twelve o'clock! Good-night!" She held out her hand.
"Good-night!" he said, taking it, and giving it a cordial pressure which she remembered long.
"Good-night!" she repeated, softly, going up the stairs.
Hartley, who came in a few minutes later, found his partner sitting thoughtfully by the fire, with his coat and shoes off, evidently in deep abstraction.
"Well, I got away at last—much as ever. Great scheme, that sociable, eh? I saw your little girl introducing you right and left."