I assure you I ate like an ostrich after my work was
over. I even upset the dignity of an urbane Delmonico waiter."
Ida bit her lip as she recalled certain resemblances on her own
part to that suggestive bird, but she said sympathetically: "It
must be rather stupid to dine alone at a restaurant."
"I found it insufferably stupid, and I'm more grateful to your
father for his invitation than you would believe."
Ida could scarcely disguise her pleasure, and with mirthful eyes
she said:
"Really, Mr. Van Berg, you place me in quite a dilemma. I find
that in one mood you do not wish to eat at all, and again you say
you have the rather peculiar appetite of the bird you named. Now
I'm housekeeper at present, and scarcely know how to provide. What
kind of viands are best adapted to artists and poets, and---"
"And idiots in general, you might conclude," said Van Berg, laughing.
"After sitting so near me at the table all summer you must have
noticed that nothing but ambrosia and nectar will serve my purpose."
Ida's laughing eyes suddenly became deep and dreamy as she said:
"That time seems ages ago. I cannot realize that we are the same
people that met so often in Mr.
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