He darted after her, resolved to risk another snub before allowing her to slip away ignorant of the vast change that had been wrought in him since their meeting in Washington. A taxi was not immediately forthcoming and she frowned impatiently as he appeared beside her. A frowning Isabel had not entered into his calculations at all; it was a mirthful, light-hearted Isabel he was carrying in his heart. He would affect gaiety; he would let her see that he was a dare-devil, the man she would have him be. "Really!" he exclaimed, twittering like an imbecile, "isn't it jolly that we've met in this way?" "I'm not so sure of that! May I ask just why you are here under an assumed name?" "Well, you know," he began, his lips twitching as he mopped his face, "you told me to throw a brick at the world and I've been following your advice." Under her stoical scrutiny his voice squeaked hysterically. "It's perfectly jolly, the life I'm leading! You never heard of anything so wild and devilish! Miss Perry, behold your handiwork!" Perspiring, stuttering, with the glitter of madness in his eyes, he was not on the whole an object to be proud of, and there was no pride or joy manifest in Miss Isabel Perry as she observed him critically, with the detachment of one who observes a wild animal in a menagerie. Her silence moved him to further frantic efforts to impress her with the fact that he was now a character molded to her hand. "You were asking for Mrs. Congdon; Mrs. Putney Congdon, I suppose? Well, I certainly could tell you a story if you would give me time! What I don't know about the Congdon family wouldn't make a large book! Ha, ha! But if I had known Mrs. Congdon was a friend of yours I should have acted differently, very differently indeed." He was attracting attention. The porter, the bell-boy supporting Isabel's bag, and a few passers-by paused, amused by the spectacle of a heated gentleman earnestly addressing a young woman who seemed greatly annoyed by his attentions. The taxi drew up and she stepped into it, but he landed beside her, flinging a handful of silver on the walk and taking her suitcase on his knees. "This is unpardonable! If it hadn't been for making a scene I should have told the porter to throw you out!" His teeth chattered as he tried to throw a conciliatory tone into his speech without losing his air of bravado. "You know you're responsible for everything! I see life differently, really I do! And this is so beautifully romantic, running into you here, of all places!" "I think," she said, sweeping him with a look of scorn, "that you've been following me or were put here to watch me!" "Oh, that's unkind, most unkind! Purely chance,--the usual way, you know! How do you imagine I should be watching you with anything but the noblest intentions?"