"
"Perfect idleness--yes. But more than that. I aimed far higher. My ideal
was perfect irresponsibility. We have become like the wind that bloweth
where it listeth."
And again, she said: "Let me see, what day is this?"
"I think it is Thursday or Friday," he replied. "But it may be Sunday. I
can assure you that it is afternoon, late afternoon, and I think we ought
to dress for dinner soon. After dinner, if you still care to know, and will
remind me, I'll try to find out the day. But I'm sure we shall have
forgotten before to-morrow."
Howard got an extension of his leave of absence and they roamed about
England in August, reaching New York on the first day of September. Marian
went on to Mrs. Carnarvon at Newport and Howard took rooms at the Waldorf.
She stayed away a full week, then came to town, opened their apartment, and
surprised him with a formal invitation to dinner.
He came like a guest and they went through all the formalities of meeting
for the first time, of increasing intimacy--condensing a complete courtship
into one evening.
"I thought you had had enough of me for the time," he said, as they sat in
the wide window-seat, he tracing with his forefinger the line of the straps
over her bare shoulders.
"And I thought that I would give you a chance to forget how nice I am and
so give you the pleasure of learning all over again.
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