"That you don't hate for me to touch you."

She laughed and tapped his shoulder in rag-time. Also she whistled, and
did a quiet suspicion of a turkey-trot with her feet.




VI


One bright morning in May, divinely early, two persons of very different
appearance and nature came out of two houses of very different
appearance and nature at precisely the same moment, and started to move
toward each other by methods of locomotion no less different than were
the appearances of the respective persons or the respective houses from
which they emerged.

The house from which the one issued was of speckless white marble, and
looked from the advantageous corner of Sixty-something Street and Fifth
Avenue upon the purple and white lilacs and the engaging spring greens
of Central Park.

The other came out of a dark house at the angle of a narrow street in
the shadow of Brooklyn Bridge, whose door, crossed by dingy gilt
lettering, violently clanged a bell at opening and closing. The first
person stepped with the long clean strides of youth and liberty. The
second person cannot be said to have stepped at all. The first person,
meeting a policeman, smiled and said: "Good morning, Kelly." The second,
similarly meeting with an officer of the law, scowled upward, and said: