“Why, I could build a house. A house, up on Edgecombe. A house like the Barstows’ with lawns, and gardens, and sleeping porches, and linen closets!� Oh, Maxine! We’ll live there — — ”

“Not I,” said Maxine, crisply. Arnold, watching her, knew what she was going to say before she said it. “I’m going to see the world. I want to penetrate a civilization so old that its history wanders down the centuries and is lost in the dim mists of mythology.” [See Baedeker.]

Sudden wealth had given Arnold a new masterfulness. “Marry me before you go.”

“Not at all,” replied Maxine. “On the boat going over — — ”

“Over where?”