"That--that kiss," he stammered. "I can feel it yet."
She blushed deeply, happily. Her beauty made him tingle. "So can
I," she said.
They walked in silence several squares. "When will I see you
again?" he asked. "Tonight?"
"Yes--do come down. But--Ruth'll be there. I believe Artie
Sinclair's coming."
"Oh, that counter-jumper?"
She looked at him in surprise. "He's an awfully nice fellow,"
said she. "About the nicest in town."
"Of course," replied Sam elaborately. "I beg your pardon. They
think differently about those things in the East."
"What thing?"
"No matter."
Sam, whose secret dream was to marry some fashionable Eastern
woman and cut a dash in Fifth Avenue life, had no intention of
explaining what was what to one who would not understand, would
not approve, and would be made auspicious of him. "I suppose
Ruth and Sinclair'll pair off and give us a chance."
"You'll come?"
"Right after din--supper, I mean. In the East we have dinner in
the evening."
"Isn't that queer!" exclaimed Susan. But she was thinking of the
joys in store for her at the close of the day.
"I must go back now," said Sam. Far up the street he saw his
sister's pony cart coming.
"You might as well walk to the store." It seemed to her that they
both had ever so much to say to each other, and had said nothing.
"No. I can't go any further. Good-by--that is, till tonight.
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