And then, when he began to talk about his work ("the only thing worthwhile," he passionately repeated)—ah, then it seemed as if they were in the library of the Willows again, in the green summer twilight, while he read and she listened, taking in his meaning with every line of lids and lips, and the quietness of that head supported statuelike on her smooth bare arm… . It was curious, though, how some substitution of values of which she held the secret caused this spiritual communion to bring them nearer than the embraces he had hungered for at the Willows. Or perhaps his recoil from the idea of combining physical endearments with such a communion was due to Laura Lou's persistent suspicion. He would have to dissociate sensual passion from all that had debased and cheapened it before it could blend with his vision of this woman who had understood and pitied him… . Next morning, when the questioning began, Vance told his wife that he had stopped in at the "Loafers'," and stayed late talking about his book with a lot of fellows. "And that Stram woman, I suppose?" she suggested; and he retorted, plunging his angry face into the basin: "Oh, yes, and half the vaudeville stage of New York." Laura Lou was brushing her hair before the looking glass. He caught the reflection of the small pale oval, the reddened lids, the ripe lips crumpled up with distress, and turning to her he passed his wet hand through her hair, tumbling it forward over her eyes. "You little goose, you … " She caught his hand and flung herself against him. "I don't care a single scrap, darling, as long as you didn't go and see Mrs. Tarrant," she whispered, her lips on his. "Oh, hell," he laughed, jerking away from her to finish his dressing… .