"He is not at his best," I whispered; "his mouth isn't always like that."
Jane made a comical little moue and kissed me again. "The same old Marguerite," and she framed my face in her hands.
"With a difference," I said quietly.
"With a beautiful difference. I don't wonder at your husband's falling——"
"Hush!" I said, "I am going to wake him."
Jane sat down and watched with interest.
"Dimbie! Dimbie, dear, would you mind waking up?"
"He doesn't always sleep quite so heavily as this," I explained apologetically. "It has been such a warm, enervating day."
"Dimbie, will you stop snoring."
Still no answer.