"Oh, that's so darn far. Take all day getting there, pretty near."

"Not driving, it wouldn't."

"I ain't got the bus. Busted."

His apathy was getting on her nerves. "How about a movie, then?" Her
feet hurt. It was hot.

His glance went up the street toward the Harper, down the street toward
the Hyde Park. The sign above the Harper offered Mother o' Mine. The
lettering above the Hyde Park announced Love's Sacrifice.

"Gawd, no," he made decisive answer.

Miss Bauers's frazzled nerves snapped. "You make me sick! Standing
there. Nothing don't suit you. Say, I ain't so crazy to go round with
you. Cheap guy! Prob'ly you'd like to go over to Wooded Island or
something, in Jackson Park, and set on the grass and feed the squirrels.
That'd be a treat for me, that would." She laughed a high, scornful
tear-near laugh.

"Why--say----" Nick stared at her, and yet she felt he did not see her.
A sudden peace came into his face--the peace of a longing fulfilled. He
turned his head. A Lake Park Avenue street car was roaring its way
toward them. He took a step toward the roadway. "I got to be going."

Fear flashed its flame into Miss Bauers's pale blue eyes. "Going! How do
you mean, going? Going where?"

"I got to be going." The car had stopped opposite them. His young face
was stern, implacable. Miss Bauers knew she was beaten, but she clung to
hope tenaciously, piteously. "I got to see a party, see?"

"You never said anything about it in the first place. Pity you wouldn't
say so in the first place. Who you got to see, anyway?" She knew it was
useless to ask. She knew she was beating her fists against a stone wall,
but she must needs ask notwithstanding: "Who you got to see?"

"I got to see a party. I forgot." He made the car step in two long
strides; had swung himself up. "So long!" The car door slammed after
him. Miss Bauers, in her unavailing silks, stood disconsolate on the hot
street corner.

He swayed on the car platform until Sixty-third Street was reached.
There he alighted and stood a moment at the curb surveying idly the
populous corner. He purchased a paper bag of hot peanuts from a vender's
glittering scarlet and nickel stand, and crossed the street into the
pathway that led to Jackson Park, munching as he went. In an open space
reserved for games some boys were playing baseball with much hoarse
hooting and frenzied action. He drew near to watch. The ball,
misdirected, sailed suddenly toward him. He ran ba