m beneath a car: "Whatcha want?"

"Dame on the wire."

"I ain't in."

The obliging voice again, dutifully repeating the message: "He ain't
in.... Well, it's hard to say. He might be in in a couple hours and
then again he might not be back till late. I guess he's went to Hammond
on a job----" (Warming to his task now.) "Say, won't I do?... Who's
fresh! Aw, say, _lady_!"

You'd think, after repeated rebuffs of this sort, she could not possibly
be so lacking in decent pride as to leave her name for Smitty or Mike or
Elmer to bandy about. But she invariably did, baffled by Nick's
elusiveness. She was likely to be any one of a number. Miss Bauers
phoned: Will you tell him, please? (A nasal voice, and haughty, with the
hauteur that seeks to conceal secret fright.) Tell him it's important.
Miss Ahearn phoned: Will you tell him, please? Just say Miss Ahearn.
A-h-e-a-r-n. Miss Olson: Just Gertie. But oftenest Miss Bauers.

Cupid's messenger, wearing grease-grimed overalls and the fatuous grin
of the dalliant male, would transmit his communication to the uneager
Nick.

"'S wonder you wouldn't answer the phone once yourself. Says you was to
call Miss Bauers any time you come in between one and six at Hyde
Park--wait a min't'--yeh--Hyde Park 6079, and any time after six at----"

"Wha'd she want?"

"Well, how the hell should I know! Says call Miss Bauers any time
between one and six at Hyde Park 6----"

"Swell chanst. _Swell_ chanst!"

Which explains why the calls came oftenest for Nick. He was so
indifferent to them. You pictured the patient and persistent Miss
Bauers, or the oxlike Miss Olson, or Miss Ahearn, or just Gertie
hovering within hearing distance of the telephone listening,
listening--while one o'clock deepened to six--for the call that never
came; plucking up fresh courage at six until six o'clock dragged on to
bedtime. When next they met: "I bet you was there all the time. Pity you
wouldn't answer a call when a person leaves their name. You could of
give me a ring. I bet you was there all the time."

"Well, maybe I was."

Bewildered, she tried to retaliate with the boomerang of vituperation.

How could she know? How could she know that this slim, slick young
garage mechanic was a woodland creature in disguise--a satyr in store
clothes--a wild thing who perversely preferred to do his own pursuing?
How could Miss Bauers know--she who cashiered in the Green Front Grocery
and Market on Fifty-third Street?