Jimmy slipped out of the silences instantly and edged closer to Lolita. He tried to take her hand, but she drew it away quickly. He was bewildered by her attitude and there was a shade of genuine agitation in his voice as he made reply. “What’s the matter, honey? Didn’t you like that little yarn and the two column picture of you the Journal ran the other morning? That sheet’s got a circulation of over four hundred thousand. Think of all those people readin’ about you and seein’ your picture and talkin’ about you. Didn’t that make you happy? I hoped it would. That’s what I got ’em to use it for.” Lolita touched him gently on the arm. “I didn’t mean to be nasty, Jimmy,” she said. “I really didn’t and I hate to tell you the truth, but you’d really ought to know it. Do you want to?” “Fire ahead. You don’t even have to blindfold me.” “It didn’t make me as happy as you’d imagine. There wasn’t a single soul that saw it who knew anything about who I was or anything except the folks in the company, and they were all jealous because you’d put it in. I didn’t mean any more to that four hundred thousand than the printer that set up the type. Oh, no, I didn’t. You can’t tell me. “Let me tell you something, Jimmy. Old Doc Crandall, the city editor of the Cedar Rapids Democrat-Chronicle, wrote a piece once about the graduation exercises at the Central High School and he said that I recited with ‘fine expression and wonderful emotional control.’ There were only two lines about me, but those two lines made me happier than a whole page in Boston would,—yes, or New York either. Do you know why?” Jimmy, whose ideals were crashing down to earth, sat entranced at Lolita’s turbulent outburst. “No,” he replied. “What’s the answer?” “Because nine out of every ten people that read those two lines either know me to speak to or by sight or knew mother or dad and what was printed meant something to them about someone who meant something to them. That’s kind of mixed up, I guess, but you know what I’m trying to say. What do I mean to anyone here or in New York or any place else here in the east? Nothing—nothing at all, Jimmy—just nothing at all.” She wound up at a helter-skelter pace that left her quite out of breath and had it not been for the sheltering elm Jimmy might have noticed that she was biting her lip when she paused and that she was holding herself in with a mighty effort. He again tried to take her hand, but she would have none of it. “Girlie,” he pleaded, making a clumsy attempt at gentleness, “you mean a whole lot to a certain party who’s pretty close at hand. You’ve just naturally got the Cedar Rapids blues again tonight, honey, but you’ll be all right in the mornin’, all right in the mornin’, honey. Take it from me. I don’t lose many bets.”