"She's the best friend I ever had." "I think I can say that, too," he said. "Does she understand your problems just as she does mine?" "Yes." "You remember the hymn that talks about 'being at rest in God?' That's the way I feel about Jane." "You should do a study of her. You owe us Jane's broad, God-like beneficence to offset your 'Woman.'" "I am going to do her, as soon as I grow up to her." "That's a tribute to our friend." "Aren't those fog shapes startling?" she said, pointing with her stick. "No wonder the soldiers saw miracles on the field of Mons." "But the real miracle that happened there, they did not see," he answered. "What was that?" "The Christmas truce in the trenches was the miracle of our times--the great hope of our future. If men can respect one another as enemies, instead of hating one another, some day we may have an end of war." "I cannot dream nor philosophize war out of life, Mr. Christiansen. If it is not between nations, it will be between classes. If it is not for booty, it will be for survival. How can we hope to do away with it?" "By another miracle, already begun--a sense of brotherhood in the world of men. If, even in the trenches, men clasped hands on Christmas Day, and gave the enemy Christmas greeting; if only a few employers lead off with a coöperative ownership; if only a few workmen in the unions meet the employers in fairness, it means that the day of universal amnesty is not a dream." "You dear, big believer in miracles!" she scoffed. "Poor little cynic, snarling at the heels of truth," he retorted. The heavens opened at that moment, and the rain descended with midsummer violence. "Shall we run for the woods?" he asked. "No, I like it," answered she, lifting her face to the torrent. So they ploughed through the mud puddles, and arrived home, wet through, but tingling with racing blood and clear brains. As Bobs ran through the hall on her way to her room, she called to her hostess: "Jane, let there be tons of food!" CHAPTER XX Summer reached its crest and started down the hill toward autumn. Jerry went to town and spent a week trying to find a larger studio for them, which made some concession to Monsieur Bébé. He suggested that Jane summon Bobs for company, in his absence, but she preferred to be alone. He left, weighed down by her advice not to be extravagant, not to take the first thing he looked at, to inspect her list of necessities before he decided on anything. She begged him to let her go with him, but he stoutly refused. "Don't worry. I'll be as wise and wily as a real estate agent," he said as he left her. She determined not to worry about it, but remembering his sudden enthusiasms during their spring house-hunting, she was not at rest in regard to him. She put it out of her mind as much as she could, and gave herself up to the complete enjoyment of being alone. Before her marriage, companionship had been her ideal luxury; now, solitude had taken its place.