See, some of those lines are all right! I just picked up a crayon and--" He stopped abruptly, his eyes on Billy's face.

A vaguely troubled shadow crossed his own.

"Did--did you--were you saying anything in--in particular, when you came in ?" he stammered.
For a short half-minute Billy looked at her husband without speaking.
Then, a little queerly, she laughed.
"Oh, no, nothing at all in _particular_," she retorted airily.

The next moment, with one of her unexpected changes of manner, she darted across the room, picked up a palette, and a handful of brushes from the long box near it.

Advancing toward her husband she held them out dramatically.