section, so I don't knock around down this way much. But, say--"
His hand tightened on hers. "We just gotta dance together some
more. I'll tell you, the Orindore Club has its dance Wednesday.
If you haven't a date--have you?"

"No," she said.

"Then Wednesday. What time'll I come for you?"

And when they had arranged the details, and he had agreed that
she should dance some of the dances with the other fellows, and
said good night again, his hand closed more tightly on hers and
drew her toward him. She resisted slightly, but honestly. It was
the custom, but she felt she ought not for fear he might
misunderstand. And yet she wanted to kiss him as she had never
wanted to kiss a man. When it came, her face upturned to his, she
realized that on his part it was an honest kiss. There hinted
nothing behind it. Rugged and kind as himself, it was virginal
almost, and betrayed no long practice in the art of saying
good-bye. All men were not brutes after all, was her thought.

"Good night," she murmured; the gate screeched under her hand;
and she hurried along the narrow walk that led around to the
corner of the house.

"Wednesday," he celled softly.

"Wednesday," she answered.

But in the shadow of the narrow alley between the two houses she