"
"Worse," Hollister muttered, "because I sulked and brooded and raged
against what had overtaken me. Yet if I hadn't reacted so violently,
I should never have come here to hide away from what hurt me. So I
wouldn't have met you. That would almost make one think there is
something in the destiny that you and Lawanne smile at."
"Destiny and chance: two names for the same thing, and that thing
wholly unaccountable, beyond the scope of human foresight," Doris
replied. "Things happen; that's all we can generally say. We don't
know why. Speaking of Lawanne, I wonder if he really does intend to
stay here this winter and write a book?"
"He says so."
"He'll be company for us," she reflected. "He's clever and a little
bit cynical, but I like him. He'll help to keep us from getting bored
with each other."
"Do you think there is any danger of that?" Hollister inquired.
She tweaked his ear playfully.
"People do, you know. But I hardly think we shall. Not for a year or
two, anyway. Not till the house gets full of babies and the stale odor
of uneventful, routine, domestic life.
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