in and seemed
to be starting away without her, down the sweep of the driveway. Could
he have forgotten her? The man must indeed be mad, as some of his
actions indicated! But her aroused indignation was turned to admiration
of his finesse, for suddenly he veered the lights of the car toward
the garage door, throwing them in the faces of Jim and his servant. He
leaped out again, walking past the place of concealment.

"Slip into the car, while I go inside with them. I'll come out on the
run, and no one will be the wiser."

With this passing stage direction he rushed toward his accomodating
friend, with some final directions. They were apparently humorous in
content, for both the other men roared with mirth, as he walked inside
the building, with them, an arm around the shoulder of each. Helene
obeyed him, hiding as best she could in the low seat of the throbbing
machine. As Shirley returned, Jim Merrivale was still laughing blithely.

"Good-bye, you old maniac: you'll be the death of me. I'll take care of
the star boarder, however, and feed him champagne and mushrooms."

With a roar, Shirley started the engines, as he bounced into the seat,
and they sped down the curving driveway, with Helene leaning forward,
unobserved.

"There, we've had a little by-play that friend Jim didn't guess. I
always enjoy a little intrigue," he laughed, as they whizzed along
toward distant New York. "But, I had to lie, and lie, and lie--like the
light that lies in women's eyes. What a jolly game!"

He was a big boy, happy in the excitement, and bubbling with his
superabundance of vitality. Helene felt curiously drawn toward him, in
this mood: she remembered a little paragraph she had read in a book that
day:

"A woman loves a man for the boy spirit that she discovers in him: she
loves him out of pity when it dies!" Then she fearsomely changed the
current of her thoughts, to complain pathetically of the cold wind!

"There, now, I am so thoughtless," was his apology, as he stopped
the car, to wrap the overcoat more closely about her, and tuck her
comfortably in a big fur. Through the darkened streets of the suburb
they raced, entering the silent factory districts, which presaged the
nearness of the river. It was well on toward daybreak before they rolled
over the Queensboro Bridge to Manhattan. It was his second day without
sleep, but Shirley was sustained by the bizarre nature of the exploit:
he could have kept at the steering wheel f