After that they talked of other things until the doctor came to take
Desire home.
"Queer thing," he said as he threw in the clutch, "I believe she
looks a little better already. That was an excellent idea of yours."
"It was anything but an excellent idea." Desire's tone was taut with
emotional reaction. "Fortunately, it did no harm. But I don't know
what you were thinking of to allow it."
"Allow it?" In surprised injury.
Desire did not take up the challenge. She was looking, he thought,
unusually excited. There was faint color on her cheek. Her hands,
generally so quiet, clasped and unclasped her handbag with an
irritating click. Being a wise man, Rogers waited until the clicking
had subsided. Then, "What's the matter?" he asked mildly.
"John," said Desire, "do you know anything about love?"
"I see you do," she added as the car leapt forward, narrowly missing
a surprised cow. "So perhaps you will laugh at my new wisdom. I
learned something to-day."
The car was giving trouble. For a few moments its eccentricities
required its driver's undivided attention. Even when it was running
smoothly again, he appeared preoccupied. But Desire was seldom in a
hurry. She waited until he was quite ready.
"You learned something--about love?" asked John gruffly.
"Yes. Have you a sore throat? Your voice sounds all dusty. I used to
think," she went on dreamily, "that love was something that came
from outside. That it depended on things.
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