He found the article and began to read. The technicalities of musical
composition had never appealed to him, but, though by him the writer's
exhaustive knowledge of his subject was not appreciated, by his
listener it was greatly so, and, in tense eagerness to miss no word,
the latter leaned forward and kept his sightless eyes in the direction
of the sound of his voice.

Not for long could he read, however. In a few moments Carmencita's
hands were outstretched, and, giving one to each, she led them to the
table, and at it he sat down as naturally as though it were a familiar
occurrence. In the center was a glass jar with a spray of red geranium
in it, and behind the earthen tea-pot the child presided with the
ease of long usage. As she gave him his tea he noticed it was in the
only unchipped cup, and on the one kept for herself there was no
handle. Under his breath he swore softly. Why--He mentally shook
himself. This was no time for why-ing.

[Illustration: "WHICH DO YOU LIKE BEST, SARDINES WITH LEMON ON 'EM, OR
TOASTED CHEESE ON TOAST?"]

As an appetizer the toasted cheese on toasted bread was excellent, but
the supper--if she had only let him get it. He had not dared insist,
and never had he been more consciously a guest, but could people live
on fare so scant as this? It was like Frances to want to know how
other people lived--and not to be content with knowing. But after she
knew how could she sleep at night? Great God! If there was to be a day
of judgment what could men say--men like himself and his friends?