l. Their
passage was as inexplicable as their presence had been. A dim band of
light lay across the floor of the porch and Myrtle stood before him,
facing him. He could not see her face.

"Well?" she said, as though she had known him for years.

"Well?" he echoed uncertainly. Her tone had implied a question or
perhaps it was a suggestion. She stood quite motionless; he could have
reached out his hand and put it on her shoulder, "Suppose we go for a
ride," he suggested lamely, not feeling quite sure of himself, feeling
that perhaps it was not just the thing to propose on his first call.

For a moment she made no answer, but stood there looking at him. He
could feel rather than see the fixity of her gaze. Suddenly she
tripped away from him and ran into the house, calling back over her
shoulder, "Have to get a wrap. Be back in a minute."

After they had started he regretted the suggestion. It had shut off
the prospect of a languorous evening. It was not in harmony with his
mood; he had much rather loll back on a bench and steep himself in
musings.

Accordingly, he turned away from town, keeping on quiet back streets.
He did not even ask her where she wanted to go. The night was soft and
dark with a sky that hung low like black velvet in which was sprinkled
a soft studding of stars. The air wrapped about them, lazy and warm;
it was not like night air at all. There was a peculiar exotic feel to
it which kept the senses in a state of semi-coma yet alive to the
slightest change. Joe half closed his eyes and leaned back against the
cushion like an old cat getting her back scratched. The soft perfume
of the girl's hair, the delicious mystery of the impenetrable sky
above them, the caress of the air, all seemed to have been provided
for his own especial enjoyment. He was suddenly exultant that he had
escaped the house, that he was out and beneath the sky, and above all,
that he had someone with him. The feeling of unfulfillment that had
wracked him constantly was giving way. He imagined a sort of
proprietary right to the conditions about him. Luxury, ease, pleasure,
all that rolling along underneath those stars with an exquisite,
beautiful thing beside him was symbolical of, seemed justly to have
fallen to his lot. The dull, unfathomable ache of suppressed desire
had vanished and he was complacent.

"Well," a voice startled him. "Aren't you ever coming back to earth?"

He was suddenly confused.

"I don't think it's a bi