“I MUSTN'T forget the hominy——”
She was flying into the hall. Kennicott looked up from the Journal of the American Medical Society.
“Hello! What time did you get back?” she cried.
“About nine. You been gadding. Here it is past eleven!” Good-natured yet not quite approving.
“Did it feel neglected?”
“Well, you didn't remember to close the lower draft in the furnace.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry. But I don't often forget things like that, do I?”
She dropped into his lap and (after he had jerked back his head to save his eye-glasses, and removed the glasses, and settled her in a position less cramping to his legs, and casually cleared his throat) he kissed her amiably, and remarked:
“Nope, I must say you're fairly good about things like that. I wasn't kicking. I just meant I wouldn't want the fire to go out on us. Leave that draft open and the fire might burn up and go out on us. And the nights are beginning to get pretty cold again. Pretty cold on my drive. I put the side-curtains up, it was so chilly. But the generator is working all right now.”
“Yes. It is chilly. But I feel fine after my walk.”