"Are you quite sure?"
"Quite," Anne replied mendaciously. "Howard, will you do something for me?"
"Anything in the world."
"Change the subject."
"Oh," he said with regret. "That is the one thing in the world that I cannot do for you."
"Down under all your altruism," Anne remarked, "I detect the primal selfishness of man."
They were in the Early Greek room. Apollo looked down at them with his archaic smile.
"Moreover," Anne continued, "I am not sure of you."
"I should think that you might be sure by this time! " cried the young man hotly. "Will fifty years of waiting convince you better than twenty-five have done, of my steadfastness?"
"There has always been," said Anne impressively, "a kind of spiritual inconstancy about you. Ever since you were
