THE REVERBERATOR
"She's all right. She has gone upstairs to get something. I guess we're going out again."
"It's very attractive for the young," Mr. Dosson pleaded to the visitor.
"Well then, I'm one of the young. Do you mind if I go with you?" Mr. Flack continued to the girl.
"It'll seem like old times, on the deck," she replied. "We're going to the Bon Marche."
"Why don't you go to the Louvre? That's the place for you."
"We've just come from there: we've had quite a morning."
"Well, it's a good place," the visitor a trifle dryly opined.
"It's good for some things but it doesn't come up to my idea for others."
"Oh they've seen everything," said Mr. Dosson. Then he added: "I guess I'll go and call Francie."
"Well, tell her to hurry," Miss Delia returned, swinging a glove in each hand.
"She knows my pace," Mr. Flack remarked.
"I should think she would, the way you raced!" the girl returned with memories of the Umbria. "I hope you don't expect to rush round Paris that way."
"I always rush. I live in a rush. That's the way to get through."
"Well, I am through, I guess," said Mr. Dosson philosophically.
"Well, I ain't!" his daughter declared with decision.
"Well, you must come round often," he continued to their friend as a leave-taking.
6
