As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came into his eyes. ‘I doubt it. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. "It was given me by poor dear Mrs. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her.
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