down at Joan Daisy and demanded, teasingly, "Well, what's the matter with you, Jo?"
"Matter, Ket?" she replied, transported to old times with him, when she, by not throwing herself upon him, provoked him as none of the others.
"Yeh! Ain't you glad you got me out, now that I'm out?" he jibed her. "I suppose you figure you're through; you've got a lunch date elsewhere to-day."
"No; I haven't," she replied, very seriously, and he chuckled, looking her over with exuberant anticipation.
"Then you're coming with me. And it'll be some lunch in your life, Jo. I'm going to buy a meal!" he boasted, only more flattered by the obvious consternation he bestrewed over the girls whom he otherwise ignored.
He flipped on his hat, tilting it with becoming jauntiness; he put on his overcoat, appreciatively cramming down the banknotes to the bottom of the pockets. "I guess we can buy a lunch; come along," he bid, linking one arm with his mother's and the other with Jo's, half lifting her from her feet.
Elmen reached them, and Ket offered his hands, with his elbows still linked with his mother's and Jo's. She glanced away and discovered Calvin Clarke near the elevator shaft; she slipped her arm from Ket's and worked her way to him.
"How is it to-day?" she inquired, looking up into his intent eyes. He seemed paler, when she was so close to him, and he kept his lips very straight.
"It is all over," he replied. "That charge can never come up again. On the other matter," he added after a moment.
"What other matter?" she asked, stirring spots of color in his cheeks.
"The matter when we—the matter at the ditch," he amended.
