Part 4 (1/2)
”No one could ever accuse you of being a mollycoddle, Mr. Barker.”
He turned and loosened the back of her seat until it reclined like a Morris chair. ”My own invention,” he said; ”to lie back and watch the stars on a clear night sort of--of gives you a hunch what's goin' on up there.”
She looked at him in some surprise. ”You're clever, all right,” she said, rather seriously.
”Wait till you know me better, kiddo. I'll learn you a whole lot about me that'll surprise you.”
His hand groped for hers; she drew it away gently, but her voice was also gentle:
”Here we are home, Mr. Barker.”
In front of her lower West Side rooming-house he helped her carefully to alight, regarding her sententiously in the flare of the street lamp.
”You're my style, all right, kiddo. My speedometer registers you pretty high.”
She giggled.
”I'm here to tell you that you look good to me, and--and--I--anything on fer to-morrow night?”
”No,” she said, softly.
”Are you on?”
She nodded.
”I'll drop in and see you to-morrow,” he said.
”Good,” she replied.
”If nothin' unexpected comes up to-morrow night we'll take one swell spin out along the Hudson Drive and have dinner at the Vista. There's some swell scenery out along the Palisade drive when the moon comes up and s.h.i.+nes over the water.”
”Oh, Mr. Barker, that will be heavenly!”
”I'm some on the soft-soap stuff myself,” he said.
”You're full of surprises,” she agreed.
”I'll drop in and see you to-morrow, kiddo.”
”Good night,” she whispered.
”Good night, little sis,” he replied.
They parted with a final hand-shake; as she climbed up to her room she heard the machine chug away.
The perfume of her rose floated about her like a delicate mist. She undressed and went to bed into a dream-world of s.h.i.+mmering women and hidden music, a world chiefly peopled by deferential waiters and sc.r.a.ping lackeys. All the night through she sped in a silent mahogany-colored touring-car, with the wind singing in her ears and lights flas.h.i.+ng past like meteors.
When Miss Gertrude arrived at the Knockerbeck parlors next morning a little violet offering wrapped in white tissue-paper lay on her desk.
They were fresh wood violets, cool and damp with dew. She flushed and placed them in a small gla.s.s vase behind the cold-cream case.