For Saturday afternoon she had told him not to bring the car.
When they reached Fifth Avenue, across the Square, he stopped abruptly and faced her with a curious, uneasy look:
“I had a good reason,” she said evasively.
“Yes, but why? It's a sin to lay that car up a day like this. Look here----”
He stopped and tried to gulp down his fears.
“Look here--you're not going to throw me down after leading me to the very top of the roof, are you?”
“Then why hoof it? Let me run round to the garage and shoot her out. You can wait for me at the Waldorf. I've always wanted to push my buzz-wagon up to that big joint and wait for my girl to trip down the steps.”
“No. I've a plan of my own today. Let me have my way.”
At the foot of the broad stairs of the Library she paused and looked up smilingly at its majestic front.
He followed her wonderingly into the vaulted hall and climbed the grand staircase to the reading-room. She walked slowly to the shelf on which the Century Dictionary rested and looked laughingly at the seat in which she sat Saturday afternoon a week ago at exactly this hour.
“I got you, Kiddo--I got you! Get out of here quick or I'll grab you and kiss you!”
“Beat it then--beat it--or I can't help it!”
She turned quickly and they passed through the catalogue room and lightly down the stairs.
He held her soft, round arm with a grip that sent the blood tingling to the roots of her brown hair.
“You bet! We walk the same way up the Avenue, through the Park to the little house on the laurel hill. And you're goin' to be sweet to me today, my Kiddo--I just feel it. I----”
“Don't be too sure, sir!” she interrupted, solemnly.
“You can't fool me now--and I'm crazy as a June bug! You know I like to walk--if I can be with you!”
At the Park entrance she stopped again and smiled roguishly.
“We'll find a seat in one of the summer houses along the Fifty-ninth Street side.”
With a laugh, she slipped her hand through his arm.
“You were a little scared of me last Saturday about this time, weren't you?”
“It hurt me, too, but I didn't let you know.”
“It's all right now--it's all right. Gee I but we've traveled some in a week, haven't we?”
“I've known you more than a week,” she protested gayly.
They walked through the stately rows of elms on the Mall in joyous silence. Crowds of children and nurses, lovers and loungers, filled the seats and thronged the broad promenade.