He is a
most determined person. So am I--which perhaps accounts for our
rather stormy friendship.
"Don't you think I have a very nice home?" I took my seat in a corner
of the big chintz-covered sofa in front of the fire and close to the
long table with its lighted lamp and books and magazines, and
motioned him to sit down. "I'm entirely fixed. I hope you like this
room. I love it. I've never had one of my very own before."
"It's very pretty."
Selwyn took his seat without looking around. He did not know whether
it was pretty or not. He was not at all interested in the room.
For a moment he looked at me with eyes narrowed and his forehead
ridged in tiny, perpendicular folds. Presently he leaned forward,
his hands between his knees and fingers interlocked.
"How long do you propose to stay down here?" he asked.
"I really do not know. I thought you were going to congratulate me
upon living the life I want to live."
"I do. Until you get this thing out of your system--"
"What thing?" I, too, leaned forward. The tone of his voice made
something in me flare.
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