turned his face to the wall of his cave. The medicine-man came, examined
him, and said that he was about to die of a new disease. He looked very
wise and called it "predatory inanition."

As for the cave-girl, having run and run and run, she pulled up in a
flowery glade, looked behind, listened, saw nothing, heard no sound of
painfully pursuing feet, and called herself a fool and a silly for
having run. She wanted to explain that she hadn't meant to run away,
that girls never really meant what they said, and would the cave-man
please recover at once from his predatory inanition and take notice of
her again?

"Come," said Barbara, after quite a long silence, "let's go forth and
collar a taxi. Anywhere I can take you? I can't ask you to lunch,
because I am having seven maidens, and afterward Victor Polideon to
teach us to turkey-trot."

"I wouldn't be afraid of seven devils," Wilmot urged in his own behalf,
"if you were present."

"There are only two," she said practically, "and they are very little
devils. But I won't let you come, because you would have much too good a
time." Then she relented. "Come later, about three, and teach me to
turkey-trot. You do it better than Polideon. And I hate to have him
touch me."

"That's something," he exclaimed triumphantly.

"What's something?"