He cut into the steak--a great thick slice. He knew she could never eat it, and she knew she could never eat it. But she did eat it all, ecstatically. And in a sort of ecstatic Nirvana the quiet and vastness and peace of the big old frame house settled down upon them. The telephone in the hall rang startlingly, unexpectedly. "Let me go, Milly." "But who in the world! Nobody knows we're--" He was at the telephone. "Who? Who? Oh." He turned: "It's Miz' Merz. She says her little Minnie went by at six and saw a light in the house. She--Hello! What?... She says she wants to know if she's to save time for you at the end of the month for the April cleaning." Mrs. Brewster took the receiver from him: "The twenty-fifth, as usual, Miz' Merz. The twenty-fifth, as usual. The attic must be a sight." THE END End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of O Henry Memorial Award Prize Stories of 1919, by Various