“I HAVE—had one or two talks with him, daddy. I don’t think women need to trouble about political questions. . Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. Mr. Tell me that you are not sorry to see me again. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. She saw his eyes glaze over. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. Then suddenly with a rush came reality, came “growing up”; a hasty imperative appeal for seriousness, for supreme seriousness.
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