She wrinkled dainty brows at him. "Well, you don't know who I am now, do
you?"

"I don't have to," he responded with fervor. "Just on sight you may have
all of this street and as many of the adjoining avenues as you can use.
By the way, who _are_ you?" The question was put with an expression of
sweet and innocent simplicity.

The girl looked at him hard and straight. "I don't think that
introductions are necessary."

He sighed outrageously. "They Met but to Part; Laura Jean Libbey;
twenty-fourth large edition," he murmured. "And I was just about to
present myself as Martin Dyke, vagrant, but harmless, and very much at
your service. However, I perceive with pain that it is, indeed, my move.
May I help you up to the wheel of your ship? I infer that you intend
driving yourself."

"I'll have to, if I'm to get anywhere." A look of dismay overspread her
piquant face. "Oh, dear! I don't in the least understand this machinery.
I can't drive this kind of car."

"Glory be!" exclaimed Mr. Dyke. "I mean, that's too bad," he amended
gracefully. "Won't you let me take you where you want to go?"

"What'll become of your van, then? Besides, I haven't any idea where I
want to go."

"What! Are you, too, like myself, a wandering home-seeker on the face of
an overpopulated earth, Miss?"