er that
tries to get gay with me is going to get a call-down that'll make him
holler for his winter overcoat.' But all the same she could not
approve. And the net result of her disapproval was to make her shy and
silent as she walked by this young man's side.

The young man seemed to divine her thoughts.

'Say, I'm on the level,' he observed. 'You want to get that. Right on
the square. See?'

'Oh, yes,' said Katie, relieved but yet embarrassed. It was awkward to
have one's thoughts read like this.

'You ain't like your friend. Don't think I don't see that.'

'Genevieve's a sweet girl,' said Katie, loyally.

'A darned sight too sweet. Somebody ought to tell her mother.'

'Why did you speak to her if you did not like her?'

'Wanted to get to know you,' said the young man simply.

They walked on in silence. Katie's heart was beating with a rapidity
that forbade speech. Nothing like this very direct young man had ever
happened to her before. She had grown so accustomed to regarding
herself as something too insignificant and unattractive for the notice
of the lordly male that she was overwhelmed. She had a vague feeling
that there was a mistake somewhere. It surely could not be she who was
proving so alluring to this fairy prince. The novelty of the situation
frightened her.

'Come here often?' asked her companion.

'I've never been here before.'

'Often go to Coney?'

'I've never been.'

He regarded her with astonishment.

'You've never been to Coney Island! Why, you don't know what this sort
of thing is till you've taken in Coney. This place isn't on the map
with Coney. Do you mean to say you've never seen Luna Park, or
Dreamland, or Steeplechase, or the diving ducks? Haven't you had a look
at the Mardi Gras stunts? Why, Coney during Mardi Gras is the greatest
thing on earth. It's a knockout. Just about a million boys and girls
having the best time that ever was. Say, I guess you don't go out much,
do you?'

'Not much.'

'If it's not a rude question, what do you do? I been trying to place you
all along. Now I reckon your friend works in a store, don't she?'

'Yes. She's a cloak-model. She has a lovely figure, hasn't she?'

'Didn't notice it. I guess so, if she's what you say. It's what they
pay her for, ain't it? Do you work in a store, too?'

'Not exactly. I keep a little shop.'

'All by yourself?'

'I do all the work now. It was my father's shop, but he's dead. It
began by being my grandfath