"I'll teach him," grinned Pat. "I'll have him writing vess libre, and maybe even dadaism, in a week." "Maybe it won't be much loss," grunted Horker. "I haven't seen any of his work yet." "We'll bring some around sooner or later. We will, won't we, Nick?" "Of course, if you want to. But--" "He's going to say something modest," interrupted the girl. "He's in the retiring mood now, but he's apt to change any moment, and snap your surly head off." "Humph! I'd like to see it." "So'd I," retorted Pat. "You've had it coming all day; maybe I'll do it myself." "You have, my dear, innumerable times. But I'm like the Hydra, except that I grow only one head to replace the one you snap off." He turned again to Nicholas. "Do you work?" "Yes, sir. At my writing." "I mean how do you live?" "Why," said the youth, reddening again in embarrassment, "my parents--" "Listen!" said Pat. "That's enough of Dr. Carl's cross examination. You'd think he was a Victorian father who had just been approached for his daughter's hand. We haven't whispered any news of an engagement to you, have we, Doc?" "No, but I'm acting--" "Sure. _In loco parentis._ We know that." "You're incorrigible, Pat! I wash my hands of you. Run along, if you're going out." "You'll be telling me never to darken my own door again in the next breath!" She stretched forth a diminutive foot at the extremity of a superlatively attractive ankle, caught Nick's hat on her toe, and kicked it expertly to his lap. "Come on, Nick. There's a moon." "There is not!" objected the Doctor huffily. "It rises at four, as you ought to know. You didn't see it last night, did you?" "I didn't notice," said the girl. "Come on, Nick, and we'll watch it rise tonight. We'll check up on the Doctor's astronomy, or is it chronology?" "You do and I'll know it! I can hear you come home, you imp!" "Nice neighbor," observed Pat airily, as she stepped to the door. "I'll bet you peek out of the window, too." She ignored the Doctor's irritated rumble as she passed into the hall, where Nick, after a diffident murmur of farewell to Horker, followed. She caught up a light cape, which he draped about her shoulders. "Nick," she said, "suppose you run out to the car and wait. I think I've stepped too hard on Dr. Carl's corns, and I want to give him a little cheering up. Will you?" "Of course, Pat." She darted back into the living room, perching on the arm of the davenport beside the Doctor. "Well?" she said, running her hand through his grizzled hair. "What's the verdict?" "Seems like a nice kid," grumbled Horker reluctantly. "Nice enough, but introverted, repressed, and I shouldn't be surprised to find him anti-social. Doesn't adjust easily to his environment; takes refuge in a dream world of his own." "That's what he accuses me of doing," grinned Pat. "That all you've got against him?" "That's all, but where's that streak of mastery you mentioned? You lead him around on a leash!"