But she would shake off such fears, as she felt again the old Joe emerge, the Joe of dreams and startling plans.

And she grew excited as she thought: "Oh, if he'll only let himself go! I don't want him just nice and tame and refined! I don't want only friends like that! I want--I want--" What she wanted was still exceedingly vague, and Ethel could not put it in words.

It had something to do with the teachings of the little history "prof" at home.

She wanted the artist in him to rise, the creative soul of him! Cautiously she probed his thoughts--now tender and maternal toward him in his tired moods, now alive and interested as she got him talking.

Bits came out.