Marion brought her work-basket and took her seat on the other side of the lamp. The evening’s mail was upon the table.
“What do the letters bring to-night, Roger?” she inquired in the tone of one hungry for news.
“Enough to stir us up for one while.”
“Good. I am always ready to be stirred up. I have been stagnant all day.”
“What a girl you are for wanting new sensations.”
“Aren’t you always after them?”
“No, they are always after me.”
“Which one is after you now?”
“Four.”
“Four letters,” she said, eagerly.