"It reminds you of a red sea suddenly petrified. Taber. ” “Sorry. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. ’ ‘Certainly that is true. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. “Who decorated the school like this?” She asked, peering up at the multicolored banners that hung everywhere. “This is all madness,” she declared wearily. Her back stiffened.
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