a man--not a--boy."

"You're the best friend I've ever had. I wish you wouldn't insist on
being something else."

"But I do insist----"

"And I insist upon going home. Be good and take me."

It was said with decision, and he gave the order to the driver. And so
they whirled at last up the avenue of the Presidents and along the
edges of the Park, and arrived at the foot of the terrace of the big
house.

There was a light in the tower window.

"That fellow is up yet," Porter said. He had an umbrella over her, and
was shielding her as best he could from the rain. "I don't like to
think of him in the house."

"Why not?"

"Oh, he sees you every day. Talks to you every day. And what do you
know of him? And I who've known you all my life must be content with
scrappy minutes with other people around. And anyhow--I believe I'd be
jealous of Satan himself, Mary."

They were under the porch now, and she drew away from him a bit,
surveying him with disapproving eyes.