Page:Christopher Morley--Tales from a rolltop desk.djvu/75

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ADVICE TO THE LOVELORN
55

Arthur, and he was smiling at her as though nothing had happened. He was getting up . . . he was shaking hands with her . . . how natural it all seemed!

Like all really great crises, it was over in a flash. She found herself sitting at the little table, taking off her gloves in the most casual fashion. Arthur was whispering outrageous things. How fine it is that everybody talks so loud in Italian table d'hôtes, and the waiters crash the dishes round so recklessly!

Arthur's talk seemed to be in two different keys, partly for the benefit of old Tonio, the waiter, and partly for her alone.

"Well, here you are! I wondered how soon you'd get here. . . . Have you forgiven me, dearest? . . . Do you want some minestrone? . . . Why didn't you answer my letters, brownest eyes? . . . Yes, and some of the near-beer. . . . Darling, it was all my fault. I wrote to tell you so. Didn't you get my letter?"

After all, at such times there isn't much explaining done. A happy reconciliation is the magic of a moment, and no explanations are necessary. The trouble just drops away, and life begins again from the last kind thing that was said. All Ann could do was whisper:

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