struck, as he leaped to his feet, though the Journalist said, under
his breath, "It takes a carver in stone to think of a tale like that!"

"But think," replied the Doctor, "how much trouble some women would
escape if they kept on saying A B C like that--for the A B C is
usually lovely--and when it was time to X Y Z--often terrible, they
just slipped out through the 'open door.'"

"On the other hand, they _risk_ losing heaps of fun," said the
Journalist.

"What I like about that story," said the Lawyer, "is that it is so
aristocratic. Every one seems to have plenty of money. They all three
do just what they like, have no duties but to analyze themselves, and
evidently everything goes like clockwork. The husband enjoys being
morbid, and has the means to be gloriously so. The sculptor likes to
carve Edgar Allan Poe all over the place, and the fair lady is able to
gratify the tastes of both men."

"You can laugh as much as you please," sighed the Sculptor, "I wish it
had happened to me."

"Well," said the Doctor, "you have the privilege of going to bed and
dreaming that it did."

"Thank you," answered the Sculptor. "That is just what I am going to
do."

"What did I tell you last night?" said the Doctor, under his breath,
as he watched the Sculptor going slowly toward the house. "Bet he has