“I don’t think I ever have,” she answered. “Why should one?”
“Perhaps you are one of those unnaturally cheerful persons who like rainy days,” he said. “For my part, I can’t bear them. Yesterday, for instance, I was awfully bored. I think I must have stood at my window up there for all of an hour looking down here and wishing for the sight of”—he suddenly recollected his resolve to be on his good behavior—“of a human being. It was a beast of a day!”
“You didn’t look happy, that is true,” she said, bending to rescue a fallen clump of flaring red Luxembourgs.
“Then you saw me?” he asked eagerly.
“Why not? You stood in full sight at your window.”
“But—but I didn’t see you,” he answered aggrievedly. She shook her head.
“You couldn’t; I was in the kitchen making cake.”
“Really?” From his tone one would have thought the making of cake a wonderful and quite unprecedented performance.