"Is he still in Indianapolis?"
"Yes, he has a fine position there and seems contented now."
"And Elsie Pearson?"
"Oh, that'll come off, as you said the other day."
"Marriage?"
"Yes!"
"Good for John! I'm glad he won. He was a long time waiting."
Nelsen nodded. He was thoughtful once more. But he shook off the mood
and asked: "What are you doing, Breen?"
"Getting ready for spring."
"That's so--spring'll be here in a week or two. Going out to the country
as usual?"
"Yes, I've gathered a bunch of canvases and plenty of tubes, etcetera,
and off I'll go."
"Going to Connecticut again?"
"Yes, that's the only country for a landscape painter."
"I suppose so," Nielsen agreed.
"How about supper?" Breen interposed.
"Why, what time is it?"
"After five o'clock."
"By Jove--that late? I must be getting dressed soon."
"Got an engagement?"
"Yes, I'm going to feed with the Plymptons."
"Too bad! That means, I'll have to eat alone. See you in the morning! So
long!" and Breen moved away.
"Going over to Landsmann's?"
"Yes. But it's hopelessly dull there these days. It'll give me the
incurables to-night."
"Or a tummy-ache, at least," Nielsen added good-humoredly.
"Yes, so long!"
"So long!"
Breen went out quietly and closed the door. Nielsen studied the door
with a blank expression. But he shook himself and returned to his
manuscript. In a moment, he was absorbed, re-reading.