Bartley"-- he dropped his chin on the back of his long hand and looked at her admiringly--"Bartley caught the wind early, and it has sung in his sails ever since." Mrs.Alexander sat looking into the fire with intent preoccupation, and Wilson studied her half-averted face.

He liked the suggestion of stormy possibilities in the proud curve of her lip and nostril.

Without that, he reflected, she would be too cold.
"I should like to know what he was really like when he was a boy.

I don't believe he remembers," she said suddenly.

"Won't you smoke, Mr.
Wilson ?" Wilson lit a cigarette.