newspaper buildings, and slipped into the confectioner's. Julia sent an
approving side glance at herself in the mirror, as she drew a satisfied
breath of the essence-laden air. She loved lights, perfumes, voices--and
all were here.

An indifferent young woman wiped their table with a damp rag, as she
took their order, both, with the daring of their years, deciding upon
the murderous combination of banana ice-cream and soda with chopped nuts
and fruit. Julia had no sooner settled back contentedly to wait for it,
than her eye encountered the beaming faces of her late companions, who,
finding Haas's crowded, had naturally drifted on to Maskey's.

Much giggling and blushing and teasing ensued. Julia was radiant as a
rose; every time she caught sight of her own pretty reflection in the
surrounding mirrors, a fresh thrill of self-confidence warmed her. She
and Mark followed the banana confection with a dish apiece of raspberry
ice-cream, and afterward walked home--it was not far--to the house in
which they both lived.

"And so we don't quarrel any more?" Mark asked, in the dim hallway
outside her door.

"Not if you won't play mean tricks on me!" Julia pouted, raising her
face so that the dim light of the gas jet that burned year in and year
out, in the blistered red-glass shade, fell upon the soft curves of her
face.

It was a deliberate piece of coquetry, and Julia, although neither he
nor any other man had ever done it before, was not at all surprised to
have Mark suddenly close his strong arms about her, and kiss her, with a