Chapter FifteenBabes In The Pine Woods
Tim was at work in the library when she returned. He hadn’t heard her come in, evidently, and for a moment she watched him through the French doors. His elbows rested on the desk, one hand holding a cigarette, the other running back and forth through his rumpled hair. He looked at once boyish and scholarly, absorbed in the litter of papers in front of him.
A tender and rather sad little smile touched Sybil’s lips as she watched him. Then she crossed the living-room, tapped on the glass door, and opened it. “Nose to grindstone,” she said. “That’s what I like to see.”
He grinned up at her. “I went down in the cellar to look at the plumbing,” he said, “and a Ph.D. thesis seemed so simple by comparison that I started right in.”
“I’ll leave you to it,
