When Somers entered the living room of Wyewurk, Jack looked up at him with a smile and a glow in his dark eyes, almost like love.
“Beer?” he said.
“What’s the alternative?”
“Nothing but gas-water.”
“Then beer.”
Harriet and Victoria were still at the piano, excitedly talking songs. Harriet was teaching Victoria to pronounce the words of a Schubert song: for there was still one person in the world unacquainted with: “Du bist wie eine Blume.” And Victoria was singing it in a wavering, shy little voice.
“Let’s drink our beer by the kitchen fire,” said Jack. “Then we shall be able to hear ourselves speak, which is more than we can do in this aviary.”
Somers solemnly followed into the tiny kitchen, and they sat in front of the still hot stove.
“The women will keep up the throat-stretchin
