Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/978

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Eve. Or quarrel over.

Godfrey. I accept the correction. It does seem absurd to look back on it now. What was that tremendous rock upon which we finally went to pieces? Something about the precise shade of paper for the dining-room, wasn't it?

Eve. You are belying now your excellent memory for facts. It was not the dining-room paper—it was Mr. Arthur Hemingway.

Godfrey (stiffly). I beg your pardon. I had not intended to allude—

Eve (interrupting). It is hardly worth while, but you were so obviously mistaken about the cause of our unfortunate disagreement. On a simple question of taste in color it is impossible that we should have differed so absolutely. You have too good an eye.

Godfrey. Thank you.

Eve. And, after all, there is no reason why we should bother ourselves with trying to avoid Mr. Hemingway as a topic of conversation during these few minutes. [Looking at the clock.] By the way, you have still ten of them left. As I remember it, you chose to object to his visits, and I chose to object to your objections. That was all, was it not?

Godfrey. It seems to have been quite enough.

Eve (reflectively). Upon a candid review of all the circumstances, I am convinced that I was quite right in acting as I did.

Godfrey. And I most assuredly have not changed my opinion.

Eve. It is just as well, then. We certainly should have disagreed in the end about the dining-room paper.

Godfrey. Precisely.

[A pause. Godfrey smokes furiously, while Eve plays with her rings and glances at the clock.

[Enter Wallis with a note.

Eve (taking it). Ah, yes—from Mr. Hemingway.

[Godfrey looks up quickly. Wallis exit.

Eve (continuing). It is so stupid travelling alone that I wrote to Arthur and suggested that he might enjoy a flying trip to Lauriston. He is so fond of golf, you know, and the cooking at the club is quite tolerable again. [Opening the letter.] Will you excuse me?

[She reads. Godfrey rises and crosses over.

Eve (looking up). How very extraordinary!