There was an air of domestic peace in the observation room, where Mallory and Marjorie had been left to themselves for some time. But the peace was like the ominous hush that precedes a tempest.
Mallory was so happy with everything coming his way, that he was even making up with Snoozleums, stroking the tatted coat with one hand and holding up his newspaper with the other. He did not know all that was coming his way. The blissful silence was broken first by Marjorie:
"How do you spell Utah?—with a y?"
"Utah begins with You," he said—and rather liked his wit, listened for some recognition, and rose to get it, but she waved him away.
"Don't bother me, honey. Can't you see I'm busy?"
He kissed her hair and sauntered back, dividing his attention between Snoozleums and the ten-inning game.
And now there was a small commotion in the smoking room. Through the glass along the corridor the men caught sight of the girl who had got on at Green River. Ashton saw her first and she saw him.
"There she goes," Ashton hissed to the others, "look quick! There's the nectarine."
"My word! She's a little bit of all right, isn't she?"
Even Dr. Temple stared at her with approval: "Dear little thing, isn't she?"