It was a great relief to be able to laugh.
They were standing in the reception-room of the studio building, close by the Van Dyck portrait.
"Won't you sit down?" asked the guest politely.
"I am very busy this afternoon," suggested the hostess.
"That's too bad," said Howard, drawing a chair out for her. "I really must see you. You haven't given me a chance to talk with you alone since I came."
Anne looked industriously out of the window. There was a red Indian-summer haze in the air. Down High Street the last rays of the sun shone on the long rows of windows and on the scarlet vines that covered the houses. Branches of naked elm trees stood out gray against the glow in the west.
"I thought you had changed your mind," said Anne.
"Did you indeed? Then why have you taken such pains to avoid me?" he an-
