“Tell me—did you really buy me a present?” he demanded.
She nodded.
“Why haven’t you handed it over?”
“Because—I bought presents for every one—the sort of things you people laugh at—but you seemed different from the others so I bought you a Buddha because I thought you needed some one to tell your real secrets to—and then, after I wrapped it up, I began to think you would not like it—”
“Will you get it or shall I send a court order for my property?”
Thurley vanished, reappearing with the teakwood case. “Isn’t it odd that we both bought the same thing?”
Hobart’s face was boyish as he took the gift. “Why, Thurley,” he told her, “I believe I’m training an angel unawares.”
“You mean me?” she asked humbly.
“What made you speak of telling real secrets?” he stroked the little idol as he spoke.
“I don’t know—only where do the real things go to when the unreal have to come first and take up all one’s time?”