Turning her blue eyes reproachfully on him, she murmured: “Why are you so hateful to me?” His eyes bolted. Why can’t she play the game? he thought ill-temperedly. Lord! if she turned soft, she would be quite unendurable. He cast hastily about in his mind for some expedient to tide him over the remaining stations. He happened to remember that the trained nurse was engaged on night duty at the time. Affecting to yawn, he said: “Gosh! I hate to think of the long trip back again!” “It’s not my fault that you live so far down-town,” she said. “Believe I’ll stay all night with you,” he said, very offhand. Daisy was electrified. “How dare you say such a thing to me!” she cried. “How dare you . . . !” This was splendid! It produced the briskest quarrel they had ever had; and the rest of the stations passed unnoticed. It carried them down the stairs, along Columbus avenue, and around the corner to the door of the apartment house where she lived. Wilfred was tired of it by this time; and hailed his approaching deliverance with relief. Never again! he promised himself. She wasn’t amusing even in her anger. What an unworthy and trumped-up business this girl-chasing was, anyhow! “In all my life I have never been so insulted!” she was saying. “I never want to see you again until you are prepared to apologize. . . .” This brought them to the steps of her house. They discovered that the darkened vestibule was already occupied by a couple engaged in the business of saying good-night. Daisy quickly caught hold of Wilfred’s sleeve, and pulled him by. A light broke upon him. She intended that he should stay! He trembled with internal laughter. His heart began to beat faster. They walked on a little way in silence. Wilfred, grinning, studied Daisy’s face in the light of a street lamp. It still bore an expression of ferocious outraged virtue. What somersaults women could perform without losing their faces! When they got back, the vestibule was empty. He followed Daisy into the house without anything further being said; and into her own little place on the first floor above. She closed the door, and turning around, began in pathetic accents: “Now that you’ve forced your way in here, I hope. . . .” Wilfred laughed; and seized her rudely in his arms. An instinct told him that she adored being treated rudely. He carefully removed her glasses, and put them on a table. There was light enough for him to see her charming, vague, shy eyes. He discovered that he clasped within the too artful clothes, the body of a very nymph with slim, boyish legs, round arms, and small firm breasts. “Ah, you pretty thing! you pretty thing!” he murmured, heartily enough. “Oh, Wilfred, spare me!” she pleaded. “Not that . . . Wilfred!” “What did you expect?” he asked, between his kisses. “That we’d sit here and hold hands?” “But Wilfred, I’ve never . . . I’ve never. . . .” “Then it’s high time you did!” he said, laughing and kissing her.