He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. The word "criticism" had no concrete meaning to her then; no more than "compromise. To these a heavy wooden apparatus was attached, which could be raised or lowered at pleasure by pullies. Mike knocked on the door. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life.
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