He looked at her. But his look did not sharpen.
He began to wind his watch, yawning the old "Welllllll, guess it's about
time to turn in."
That was all. Yet she was not glad. She was almost disappointed.
II
Mrs. Bogart called next day. She had a hen-like, crumb-pecking, diligent
appearance. Her smile was too innocent. The pecking started instantly:
"Cy says you had lots of fun at the picnic yesterday. Did you enjoy it?"
"Oh yes. I raced Cy at swimming. He beat me badly. He's so strong, isn't
he!"
"Poor boy, just crazy to get into the war, too, but----This Erik Valborg
was along, wa'n't he?"
"Yes."
"I think he's an awful handsome fellow, and they say he's smart. Do you
like him?"
"He seems very polite."
"Cy says you and him had a lovely boat-ride. My, that must have been
pleasant."
"Yes, except that I couldn't get Mr. Valborg to say a word. I wanted
to ask him about the suit Mr. Hicks is making for my husband. But he
insisted on singing. Still, it was restful, floating around on the water
and singing.
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