_"No, no, no. We'll have to rely on Ha. I wonder what he's done."_
_"Working. And another thing, dearest, I wouldn't want you in any body but the one I loved."_
Across the breakfast table, Ann's level scrutiny was annoying. Ted concentrated on the cakes and bacon.
He was just lighting a cigarette to go with his second cup of coffee, when he said, "What's the matter with you, this morning?"
The cigarette trembled very little. "Matter?"
He picked up the cigarette before it burned the cloth. "What kind of--Well, I like that. Of all the silly observations!" He shook his head vexedly.
"Ted, why don't you look at me? Ted, you _did_ go right to bed, last night?"
He looked at her, his chin tilted pugnaciously. "No, I went to Venus and met a blonde. Of course I went to bed."
"Well, what are you so nervous about? Heavens, it wasn't that little spat we had, or _you_ had, rather, about your going to work?"
"No, no, no. You're imagining things, Ann."
"Look at your hand. Look how it's trembling. Ted--what is the matter?"
"Nothing. I had a dream. Ann, I don't want to talk about it."
"Drinking," she said. "It's those drinks you had, yesterday, I'll bet. You're just not a drinking man, Theodore Truesdale, and you're too old to begin."
"I'm _not_ old. You know I'm not old. You wish I were, but I'm not. Do we always have to quarrel?"
She didn't answer. Her lips quavered, but she didn't cry. She rose and carried a few dishes to the sink.
Ted went out to the porch with his coffee and cigarette. The view was unpopulated. Conscience, he told himself. My annoyance is an indication of it. Why should my conscience bother me because of a dream? Who can stop a dream?
There was a scratching sound from the other side of the nutmeg tree and the inverted head of Hamilton appeared about ten feet above the tree's base.
Hamilton came down the remaining ten feet and went over to look at the geraniums. "Fine gardener, your wife."
"Good looking, too. Maybe she could dye her hair."
Hamilton looked down at the house below, and back at Ted. "Don't blame me for that Venus trip, Truesdale. You wanted it, but bad."
"I'm not blaming anybody for anything," Ted said. "Just because I had a dream."
"Dream? Why don't you go down and ask her if she had the same dream? What a man won't say to clear his conscience! Let go, Truesdale, enjoy yourself."