And at this point, having been just to his enemy, Marvin slept the sleep of the just. Since thought is mostly a series of interruptions, he was interrupted. Since the sun was not pouring into his eyes, his triangular cells began to plump out their nuclei, ready to nerve him for the morrow. And many more such things happened to him, the which no man knoweth. Next day he turned into the roseate enclosure as of old, and received the unsolicited kiss of the lady who had once cuffed him on the ear. He explained briefly that Asher Ferry had declined to invite him to dinner, perhaps because of the cut of his clothes. “I see. But you look so pale, so thin, so manly—oh, my dear fellow, I’m sure she can’t resist. I’ll send her down immediately.” Marvin stepped into his hired car and waited, while his inconsiderate heart thumped against his ribs. In five minutes she appeared. She wore a blue dress and a close-fitting hat, and was entrancing to look at. He sprang down to meet her, and she kissed him! This looked bad. Her months of silence had apparently blossomed into love. He helped her into the car, and off they started as of old. “Marvin, you look grand in your uniform.” “Thank you, dear. You wore a uniform, too, didn’t you?” “Yes, but it was very plain.” “That’s a pretty dress you are wearing. What do you call it?” “This? It’s just a cotton voile, and it’s out of date.” Out of date or not, that silver blue clung to her slenderness, and the skirt of it had approximately a million pin-tucks. There was a white organdy sash about her dainty middle. A square white collar of the same stuff revealed the petally texture of her neck where it met her body in a sort of dimple. “Why do you call it out of date?” “The blue isn’t right. Girls are wearing a French blue now, to suggest the uniform of the French soldiers. And pin-tucks are quite out; deep folds are the right thing.” “Well, Gratia, I don’t know one goods from another, but I can learn.” She laughed. “Stay all night, and see me this evening in my Veronese green. Tomorrow I’ll put on my silk duvetyn because it matches my eyes. Can you guess the color?” “Midnight blue.” “Wrong. It’s gentian.” “Gratia, you get your eyes from your father.” “I know it, and it worries me a little. Do you suppose near-sightedness is hereditary?” Something in her anxious tone made him think of Jimmy’s eyes. It gave him a ray of hope, but he dared not presume upon it. “Gratia, I don’t know. But if there were myopia in my family and I feared my children would catch it, I’d consult the greatest living authority. I don’t feel called upon to name him. I am bound to remind you that the Mahans are not short sighted. They can see anything at a distance except field-guns.” “Was it a field-gun that robbed you?” “Yes, I was careless that morning.” “Marvin, you had the finest left hand that ever was.” “Does the loss of it make a difference?” “Why, not much. You steer remarkably well, considering.”