“I know it is you.  Is it?”

“Who?”

“It is!  I recognise your voice.  But which is it—­Kelly or Louis or Mr. Neville?”

“All three,” he replied, laughing.

“But which gentleman is in the ascendant?  The god-like one?  Or the conventional Mr. Neville?  Or—­the bad and very lovable and very human Louis?”

“Stop talking-nonsense, Valerie.  What are you doing?”

“Conversing with an abrupt gentleman called Louis Neville.  I was reading.”

“All alone in your room?”

“Naturally.  Two people couldn’t get into it unless one of them also got into bed.”

“You poor child!  What are you reading?”

“Will you promise not to laugh?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Then—­I was reading the nineteenth psalm.”

“It’s a beauty, isn’t it,” he said.

“Oh, Louis, it is glorious!—­I don’t know what in it appeals most thrillingly to me—­the wisdom or the beauty of the verse—­but I love it.”

“It is fine,” he said. “...  And are you there in your room all alone this beautiful starry night, reading the psalms of old King David?”

“Yes.  What are you doing?  Where are you?”

“At Ashuelyn, my sister’s home.”

“Oh!  Well, it is perfectly sweet of you to think of me and to call me up—­”

“I usually—­I—­well, naturally I think of you.  I thought I’d just call you up to say good night.  You see my train doesn’t get in until one this morning; and of course I couldn’t wake you—­”

“Yes, you could.  I am perfectly willing to have you wake me.”

“But that would be the limit!”

“Is that your limit, Louis?  If it is you will never disturb my peace of mind.”  He heard her laughing at the other end of the wire, delighted with her own audacity.

He said:  “Shall I call you up at one o’clock when I get into town?”

“Try it.  I may awake.”

“Very well then.  I’ll make them ring till daylight.”

“Oh, they won’t have to do that!  I always know, about five minutes before you call me, that you are going to.”

“You uncanny little thing!  You’ve said that before.”

“It’s true.  I knew before you called me that you would.  It’s a vague feeling—­a—­I don’t know....  And oh, Louis, it is hot in this room!  Are you cool out there in the country?”

“Yes; and I hate to be when I think of you—­”

“I’m glad you are.  It’s one comfort, anyway.  John Burleson called me up and asked me to go to Manhattan Beach, but somehow it didn’t appeal to me....  I’ve rather missed you.”

“Have you?”

“Really.”

“Well, I’ll admit I’ve missed you.”

“Really?”

Sure thing!  I wish to heaven I were in town now.  We would go somewhere.”

“Oh, I wish so, too.”

“Isn’t it the limit!”

“It is, Kelly.  Can’t you be a real god for a moment and come floating into my room in a golden cloud?”