FromthesedreamsofhomeMandyrecalledhimwithasummonstodinner。Ashiseye，stillfilledwiththevisionofhisdreams，felluponherinallthegorgeoussplendourofherSundaydress，hewasconsciousofastrongsenseofrepulsion。Howcoarse，howcrude，howvulgarsheappeared，howhorriblyoutofkeepingwiththosescenesthroughwhichhehadjustbeenwanderinginhisdreams。”Iwantnodinner，Mandy，”hesaidshortly。”IhaveabadheadandIamnothungry。””Nodinner？”ThatamanshouldnotwantdinnerwastoMandyquiteinexplicable，unless，indeed，hewereill。”Areyousick？”shecriedinquickalarm。”No，Ihaveaheadache。Itwillpassaway，”saidCameron，turningoveronhisside。StillMandylingered。”Letmebringyouanicepieceofpieandacupoftea。”
Cameronshuddered。”No，”hesaid，”bringmenothing。Imerelywishtosleep。”
ButMandyrefusedtobedrivenaway。”Say，I’mawfulsorry。Iknowyou’resick。””Nonsense！”saidCameron，impatiently，waitingforhertobegone。
StillMandyhesitated。”I’mawfulsorry，”shesaidagain，andhervoice，deep，tender，full-toned，revealedheremotion。
Cameronturnedimpatientlytowardsher。”Lookhere，Mandy！There’snothingwrongwithme。Ionlywantalittlesleep。Ishallbeallrightto-morrow。”