He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. He talked at the blackboard in a pleasant, very slightly lisping voice with a curious spontaneity, and was sometimes very clumsy in his exposition, and sometimes very vivid. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. “Yes,” she said, very faintly. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. I have been thinking—I will go to my wife again.
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