She always let him think a while and it always came out right.

But he had made up his mind.

It had been years since a birthday of his own had been celebrated; nor had he ever helped, so far as he could recollect, to celebrate the birthday of any child.

Yes, Masie should have her birthday, if he could bring it about, and it should be the happiest of all her life.
Suddenly he rose, releasing his neck from her grasp, and ran his eyes around the almost bare interior--the big chair being the only article, so far, in place.

"It will make a grand banquet hall, Masie," he said, as if speaking more to himself than to her.