theatrical mother. So in the past he had somewhat overlooked her.
Then one day recently he had dropped in to see Burlingame and had
seen Kitty instead; which accounts for his presence here this day.
Neither Kitty nor Burlingame suspected the true attraction. The
dramatic editor accepted the advent as a peculiar compliment to
himself. And it is to be doubted if Cutty himself realized that
there was a true magnetic pole in this cubbyhole of a room.

Kitty, however, had vivid recollections. Actually the first strange
man she had ever met. But not having been visible on her horizon,
except in flashes, she knew of the man only what she had read and
what Burlingame had casually offered during discussions.

"Well, anyhow," said Burlingame, complacently, "the war is over.

Cutty smiled indulgently. "That's the trouble with us chaps who
tramp round the world for news. We can't bamboozle ourselves like
you folks who stay at home. The war was only the first phase.
There's a mess over there; wanting something and not knowing exactly
what, those millions; milling cattle, with neither shed nor pasture.
The Lord only knows how long it will take to clarify. Would you
mind if I smoked?"

"Wow!" cried Burlingame.

"Not at all," answered Kitty. "I don't see how any pipe could be
worse than Mr. Burlingame's."

"I apologize," said the dramatic editor, humbly.