If life meant more to him, then it was for him to demand more from life, but he could not demand it from such companionship as this.

Those bold black eyes had nothing to offer.

He knew the thoughts behind them--of ice-cream and of something else.

But those saint's eyes alongside--they offered all he knew and more than he could guess.

They offered books and painting, beauty and repose, and all the fine elegance of higher existence.