She looked at him dubiously. No, there was no laughter in his eyes; he
was perfectly serious.
They walked the horses over a small hill, then mounted. It was a very
pleasant morning for Warrington. It had been years since he had talked
to a young woman who was witty and unworldly. He had to readjust
himself. He had written down that all witty women were worldly, but
that all worldly women were not witty. But to be witty and
unsophisticated was altogether out of his calculations.
At the Country Club they stabled the horses and wandered about the
golf links. Luncheon was served on the veranda; and presently
Warrington found himself confiding in this young girl as if he had
known her intimately all his life. The girl felt a thrill of
exultation. It flattered her young vanity to hear this celebrity
telling her about his ambitions.
"Everything becomes monotonous after a while," he said. "And I have
just begun to grow weary of living alone. Day after day, the same
faces, the same places, the same arguments, the same work. I've grown
tired. I want to live like other human beings. Monotony leads very
quickly into folly, and I confess to many acts of folly.
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