“Really!” he said, with a look of serious pleasure. “I believe he is going to have a strong individuality.” “Not a doubt of it,” she said. Silence for awhile. “Well, if you’re going to start right in on the grind again,” said Frances Mary, “you might take a little vacation; a walking-trip.” Wilfred shook his head. “When I get a little further ahead.” “That’s what you always say! One of the reasons we came out here was because it was a good walking center; yet I can’t drive you out!” “Well, I might . . . !” he said, throwing up his head. “For three days. The weather is lovely. . . . And when I come back. . . . Oh, Fan . . . !” She gave him smile for smile. “Stanny would be keen about coming,” he went on. “If I dropped him a line to-night, I could spend to-morrow fixing this story; and we could start out together on the following morning.” Frances Mary said nothing. Her silence changed the feeling of the room; and Wilfred looked across at her, sharply apprehensive. The silence lengthened. “Oh, Fanny!” he said, “Why do you look like that?” “I am not looking in any particular way,” she said, darning hard. “You know you are! . . . Why this feeling against Stanny?” Frances Mary dropped the sock in her lap. “I can’t help it, Wilfred. He dislikes me so!” “You’re wrong, I tell you! It is only that he is terrified of you.” “That’s nonsense.” “He’s terrified of every respectable woman.” “I’m not a respectable woman.” “Then why not show him? You stick it on for fair when he is around.” “It isn’t Stanny at all,” she said unhappily. “It’s you.” “Me?” “You are not open with me. These endless talks that you and Stanny have, that break off so awkwardly when I come in!” “Just man-talk.” “Don’t tell me that again! It’s only a pretext. There’s no such thing as man-talk or woman-talk—not with a woman like me!” “A good deal of it is Stanny’s talk. I’m always trying to give him a more cheerful outlook. I never shall, of course.” “A good half of it is _your_ talk. Your eyes do not light up like that when you are talking to me!” “Oh, but Fanny . . . ! Why . . . you and I communicate without talking.” “No! You keep yourself to yourself until Stanny comes! . . . I am always perfectly open with you . . .” “Indeed, you’re not!” said Wilfred quickly. “There is that whole novel at the bottom of your heart!” “Well, if I do keep things from you, I don’t save them up for the first stranger!” “Oh, Fan!” “No, I won’t be Fanned, and shut up! What I say is true!”