"She said so. She's afraid of the Hollywood boys. Too pushing. She said, after dinner, that you were the clean-living type. Are you?"
"I wash behind my ears." They laughed.
"Let's go out on the observation platform," she suggested. "I like you and I don't want Mamma to change her mind."
"You're frank," he said.
"It pays. Are you going by boat to New York?"
"I didn't plan to. But I might."
They stepped on the observation platform. The night was full of stars. In a corner sat a man. They chose the other railing and leaned over.
"Shucks," she said, "why couldn't we have our own private car?"
"If you had, you wouldn't have met me."
"I mean our car, yours and mine."
"An idea, but an expensive one."
"Mr. Man," she said with determination, "I'm little but oh, my! And Dad is my dad and I'm not divorced from him. He has scads of money and would never miss the price of a private car. What's more, I'm going to be a movie star."
"Then we can have two private cars, one for you, one for me."
"Elegant," she said; and her little hand slipped into his.
Amazingly he relished the situation. What was wrong with it? Nothing. She was a jewel, an ornament, a pretty thing.
"You are different," she said. "Are you sure you're on the stage?"
"Sure."
