In the taxicab Osborn took her into his arms and began whispering to her things to which she did not listen; had he only known it, she was extremely sleepy from the effects of all the fresh air during the day, but triumphantly he took her inertia for the surrender for which he had, so suddenly, craved. He was begging for that promise about Paris, but she would not give it. A month? What an age it was--any good thing might happen. She would not let him come into the flat. "I'm too sleepy," she declared. She stood before him on the inner side of her threshold, with a faint smile on her face that was as pale as magnolia flowers, and her eyelids drooping heavily; she put out a lazy hand against his chest and warded off his entry. When she sent him away, he felt on fire, from the last look of her, thus. CHAPTER XXVI COMPREHENSION When Marie had waved to her husband a stereotyped good-bye, and had kissed schoolboy George a warm one, on Monday morning, when leisurely quiet had come again to the flat, and as she still lingered over her newspaper, the door bell rang and Mrs. Desmond Rokeby was admitted. Julia--fresh, heavenly, without a frown, without a care, without a regret--blew into Number Thirty like a Christmas rose and clasped Marie in a glad embrace. "It's early; it's shockingly early, but I came up with Desmond this morning and knowing your habits--you _do_ still wheel your own perambulator on the Heath, don't you, at eleven-thirty?--I rushed here first." "How splendid you look!" "I feel splendid!" The two women stood at arm's length, eyeing each other inquisitively and frankly, and Julia's ingenuous blush was the reflection of a divine dawn. She sat down, put her feet on the fender, loosened her furs. "I may stay and talk?" "May you _not_! Oh! I'm glad to see you--it seemed as if your honeymoon was going to last for ever." "It's not over." "That's what we all say." "Don't be cynical, dear," said the new Julia. Marie waved this away with a brief laugh. "I want all your news," she demanded. "Where are you living? What are your plans? What's the house like, and where did you get your furniture?" "We've got a wee house, the dearest thing, near Onslow Gardens, and we've not finished furnishing yet; we're proceeding with it this afternoon. I'm lunching with Desmond, and then we're going furnishing together. Desmond loves it." "And you--you're happy?" "Oh, Marie! I was never so happy in my life." The baby rose from its play at the other side of the dining-room, and, tottering to her mother, begged to be lifted upon her lap. "I only want one of _those_," said Julia, regarding the mite. "That will come," Marie replied with a forced gaiety.