And, besides, a _pousse cafe_ was not of merit in itself.

It was but a thing spectacular.
And in the matter of made dishes from the man about town she acquired much wisdom.
The man in his great happiness was buoyant and fantastic, and well it was that the woman, too, possessed the sense of humor which makes the world worth occupancy, and that the two could understand together.

He was but a foolish boy in this, his delicious period of probation.
And she was but a loving woman who had given her heart to him, who understood him, and who, in a woman's way, was of his mood.

It was an idyl of the clever.
At the more modest restaurants were the lunches of these two the most delightful.

He would, somehow, find queer little places where all was clean and the cooking good, but far away from the haunts of men, that is, far away from the haunts of the men and women they knew, and there the two would have great feasts.