her. "I remember" But it seemed to come to nothing. She was silent again.
He paid the waiter.
"It was just as well to have this little talk," murmured Grandma as they arose.
The car throbbed before the steps. They were in and away. A reviving breeze swept them as the car gained speed. At least it partially revived one of them.
In the back seat he presently found a hand in his, but his own hand seemed no longer a part of him. He thought the serenity of the flapper was remarkable. She seemed to feel that nothing wonderful had happened. There was something awful about that calm.
| · | · | · | · | · | · | · |
The car stopped before the steam-heated apartment. There were but brief adieus before it went on. Cassidy sat at the head of his basement stairs with a Sunday paper. He was heading an article entitled, "My Secrets of Beauty," profusely illustrated.
"I wouldn't have one o' the things did ye give it t' me," said Cassidy. "Runnin' inta telegrapht poles an' trolley cairs."
"Couple of friends of mine took me out for a little spin," said Bean, clutching his stick, his gloves and Nap's leash.
He seemed to be still spinning.
In his own place he went quickly to Its closet, pulled open the door and shouted aloud:
