" "Odd's me! do you think so?" cried the host of the Trumpeter. ” They stared at each other through a pause, and both faces were flushed and obstinate. ’ She stopped, her lips tightening. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. “Believe me, I know. He misstated her age and address; but you can’t get home on him for a thing like that. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces.
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