"That's a gift, that. We absent-minded dubs are always too busy to waste time wailing. Lord! but this coming and going of yours has been pleasant to me! I know, sometimes I have been moody and grumpy; but I believe you always understood."
"Yes. A woman somewhere who wasn't worth it."
Hallowell nodded.
"And she's gone, vanished," went on Mathison.
"How do you figure that out?" asked Hallowell, curiously.
"For some days now you have been going about with a tune on your lips—airs from old light operas we went to in the happy days. I've never asked questions; I'm not going to now."
"A nightmare, and I've just waked up," said Hallowell, staring at the coal in his pipe. "It wasn't natural for me to gloom. I'm cheerful by nature, the same as you. I'd tell you the whole story if I thought it worth while. Women are all right. It was my misfortune to become interested in the wrong one. I wonder if Cunningham would come up and share the place with me?"
"That's odd! This very day I tapped him on the subject and he's crazy to get out here."
"That's fine! Two years, and they've been the happiest I've ever known."