"It's been found; I found it--and only a block or so away, ma'am; but it's in bad shape--lamps smashed and tires chewed to ribbons. It's a sight, for sure!" "But that's not my car!" I exclaimed, forgetting caution. "I guess there's no mistake about it, ma'am. Those fellows that stole it, up the river, must have climbed fences with it." "How do you know it is my car?" I was absolutely bewildered. "These are your license plates, aren't they? I found them under the seat." They were my license plates! * * * * * Day came in shortly after and tiptoed into the room. The nurse was out. He came over to me and stooped down. "It took me a little by surprise, honey," he said; "but that's over now. You've been foolish, but you've had your lesson. Let's kiss and be friends again." "Just a moment, Day," I said calmly. "Have you had your lesson?" "Just what do you mean?" He followed my eyes to the table and the license plates were there. He actually paled. "Where did you get them?" "Under the seat of the car Ferd and I stole last night at Devil's Island--my car, which you said was being overhauled!" He drew a long breath. Then he got down on his knees and put his head in my lap. "I've had my lesson--honest, honey!" he said. "Some darned fool suggested a picnic on one of those islands--mixed couples--and I was ass enough to agree. I took Ida Jackson. We didn't have any picnic--the champagne was stolen----" "Ferd and I----" I put in. "And then my car went----" "My car--and I took it." "And we spent all the evening and part of the night chasing the thing for fear you'd hear of it!" He looked up at me and there were dark circles round his eyes. "I haven't been to bed at all, honey," he said humbly. "It's been a rotten night! I've had enough affinity for the rest of my life. There's nobody like you!" I would not kiss him just then, but I let him lie down on my couch and hold my hand until he dropped asleep. Somehow the words of Ferd's silly card kept running through my head: _Another woman now and then Is relished by the best of men._ My little affair with Ferd had seemed harmless enough and the picnic had been a lark; but Day and Ida had had a picnic and it had been a lark--only the shoe was on the other foot, and it hurt! And somehow, as I sat there, it seemed to me that the affinity business was only fun because it was dangerous. We were all children, and life was a Fourth of July, enchanting because it was risky. Day was sleeping, with his mouth shut! I leaned over and kissed him as he dozed. Sitting there, with Day asleep, I went over the events of the night, and I knew that Ferd had had his lesson, too, and that, having been burnt, he would not play with fire again--at least not until the blister had healed; for Ferd had seen the island picnickers and had learned that they were not puddlers. He had seen Ida and Day and, worst of all, he had known that it was Day who was pursuing us.