He tapped on the window. She was startled, rose to leave the room.
He tapped again, remembering an old signal they had had as boy and
girl lovers. She paused. He could see her smile tenderly. She came
forward to the window and stared out. He stared in. Only a pane of
glass parted the tips of their flattened noses. It was a sort of
sterilized Eskimo kiss.
The window was a door. Charity opened it and invited Jim in,
wondering but strangely comforted. He invited her out. He explained
about his gorgeous new car and his loneliness and begged her to
take the air.
She put back her hands to indicate her inappropriate costume,
a flimsy evening gown of brilliant color.
"Mrs. Noxon has gone out to dinner. I was to go with her, but I
begged off. I'm going to New York to-morrow, and I was blue and--"
"And so am I. I've got an extra coat in my car, and the night
is mild."
"No, I'd better not."
"Aw, come along!"
"No-o--"
"Yes!"
"All right. I'll get a veil for my hair."
She closed the French window and hurried away. She reappeared at
the front door and shut it stealthily after her.
"Nobody saw me go. You must get me back before Mrs. Noxon comes
home, or there'll be a scandal."
"Depend on me!" said Jim.
Muffling their laughter like two runaways, they stole down the
steps. Her high-heeled slippers slipped and she toppled against him.
She caught him off his balance, and his arms went about her to save
her and himself.
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