there?"

"Yes; Palmer Howe took her home."

He was at his ease now. He had discarded his hat, and lay back on his
elbows, ostensibly to look at the moon. Actually his brown eyes rested on
the face of the girl above him. He was very happy. "He's crazy about
Chris. She's good-looking, but she's not my sort."

"Pray, what IS your sort?"

"You."

She laughed softly. "You're a goose, Joe!"

She settled herself more comfortably on the doorstep and drew along breath.

"How tired I am! Oh--I haven't told you. We've taken a roomer!"

"A what?"

"A roomer." She was half apologetic. The Street did not approve of
roomers. "It will help with the rent. It's my doing, really. Mother is
scandalized."

"A woman?"

"A man."

"What sort of man?"