Page:Meanwhile (1927).pdf/54

 that we're a pair of silly children?" she was saying. "I don't know which is sillier; probably I, for I'm old enough to know better."

"There isn't any better," said Grover, then blushed. "Besides," he plunged on, to hide his thought, "you promised once never to talk like that."

"Like what?"

"About ages."

Sophie was standing before the mirror, tucking in her hair, examining the reflection of her face in various poses. Finally, as though she had just remembered that he was still in the room, her eyes peered at him from the glass, testingly. He got up quickly and stood beside her, feeling six feet tall and twenty-five years old at least, then he bent down and kissed the place behind her ear. "Grandmother, what tiny ears you have!" he remarked. There was a faintly brownish smell to her hair; but it blended with the mysterious odor of the unknown flower, might even have been a part of it—crazy thought!

"Go get your hat," he commanded. "We're going far away."

Half an hour later they were seated in Sophie's car, fleeing the noise and dust of the city. In the narrow mirror Grover caught a glimpse of their two faces and, in this bright sunlight, it flashed upon him what it must mean to a woman to be "at least thirty-five." For there was a noticeable contrast in the texture and lustre of Sophie's cheeks and his own, and