long? It would be such a favor. McKnight had a roadster and could run back and forth to town,—wouldn't have to trespass for anything but a bed; and it would be such a perfectly wonderful thing, and so lovely and generous of Dick if he would do it, as of course he would, seeing that it wouldn't discommode him the least bit in the world.
Dick protested that he had only one bed-room. Was sorry, certainly; but that disposed of the matter, of course.
But it didn't. Kat assured him that McKnight wouldn't mind sleeping right out there on the lanai on the couch; and if Dick were short of bedding for an extra; why they, the Mortons, would be glad to supply anything that was needed. Of course that settled it conclusively, and Kat began to express her appreciation of Dick's hospitality in the creamiest sort of a way, and McKnight, hitherto silent, appeared now to be waiting to get in a word edgewise by way of gratitude.
But Dick interrupted rather tersely. It was absolutely out of the question. His work required the isolation which he had sought in coming up here; and the work must be considered paramount. He was sorry; but the idea was utterly impracticable.
Kat was very sweet and creamy about it. She understood. Of course she understood. Genius must have its quietude in which to blossom. It was an imposition for them to have even suggested that so
