"Skip it. What I meant is that you can't moulder, Janet. You've got to
get out and meet people."

"I've been out and I've met people. I've met you."

"All to the good."

"Fine. So you invited me out, and I went. It was fun. I liked it. You've
asked me, and I've said that I'd like to do it again on Saturday. I've
enjoyed being kissed, and I'll probably enjoy it again on Saturday. So--"

"I'd think you'd enjoy a lot of it."

"Because my husband has been gone for five years?"

"Oh, now Janet--"

"That's what you meant, isn't it?"

"No. You've got me wrong."

"Tim, stop it. You're spoiling a fine evening. You should have gone
before it started to spoil. Now please put your smile on again and leave
cheerfully. There's always Saturday--if you still want it."

"I'll call you," he said.

The door opened once more and then closed. James took a deep breath, and
then stole away quietly to his own room.

By some instinct he knew that this was no time to intercept Mrs. Bagley
with a lot of fool questions.

* * * * *

To the surprise and puzzlement of young James Quincy Holden, Mr. Timothy
Fisher telephoned early upon the following evening. He was greeted quite
cordially by Mrs. Bagley. Their conversation was rambling and inane,
especially when heard from one end only, and it took them almost ten
minutes to confirm their Saturday night date. That came as another shock.

Well, not quite. The explanation bothered him even more than the fact
itself. As a further extension of his little mechanical mating process,
James had to find a place for the like of Jake Caslow and the women Jake
knew. None of them were classed in the desirable group, all of them were
among the leftovers. But of course, since none of them were good enough
for the 'good' people, they were good enough for one another, and that
made it all right--for them.

But Mrs. Bagley was not of their ilk. It was not right that she should be
forced to take a leftover.

And then it occurred to him that perhaps Mrs. Bagley was not really
taking the leftover, Tim Fisher, but instead was using Tim Fisher's
company as a means toward meeting a larger group, from which there might
be a better specimen. So he bided his time, thinking deeply around the
subject, about which he knew nothing whatsoever.

Saturday night was a repeat of Wednesday. They stayed out later, and upon
their return they took possession of the living room for at l