” “Who cooked it all?” He asked. Teacher returned, and with her the casual sense of 146 order. ’ A peal of delighted laughter greeted this threat. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself.
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