“Where am I?” he muttered. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. ’ She giggled suddenly. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. The owner was at the door unhooking a few articles of wearing apparel which he had exposed outside for sale. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something. She did not wince. His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle. This is a tale of two young fools. Nevertheless there came a residuum of expostulations.
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