His songs would presently be bringing him in a few hundreds a year--so he declared--and his idea of life was to get as much enjoyment as possible without working over-hard for it.

The conversation lasted for a couple of hours, Dymes growing even more genial and confidential, his eyes seldom moving from Alma's face.
'Well,' he said at length, rising, 'it's very jolly to see you again, after all this time.

I shall be staying here for a few days.

You'll let me call tomorrow ?' At once glad and sorry to see him go, Alma laughingly gave the desired permission.

When, that evening, she looked at her unfinished letter, it seemed such a miserable whine that she tore it up in annoyance.