t her car. James went on listening shamelessly.

"Late? Phooey. When is eleven-thirty late?"

"When it's right now," she replied with a light laugh. "Now, Tim. It's
been very--"

There came a long silence.

Her voice was throaty when the silence broke. "Now, will you go?"

"Of course," he said.

"Not that way, silly," she said. "The door's behind you."

"Isn't the door I want," he chuckled.

"We're making enough noise to wake the dead," she complained.

"Then let's stop talking," he told her.

There was another long silence.

"Now please go."

"Can I come back tomorrow night?"

"Not tomorrow."

"Friday?"

"Saturday."

"It's a date, then."

"All right. Now get along with you."

"You're cruel and heartless, Janet," he complained. "Sending a man out in
that cold and storm."

"It isn't storming, and you've a fine heater in that car of yours."

"I'd rather have you."

"Do you tell that to all the girls?"

"Sure. Even Maggie the Washerwoman is better than an old car heater."

Mrs. Bagley chuckled throatily. "How is Maggie?"

"She's fine."

"I mean as a date."

"Better than the car heater."

"Tim, you're a fool."

"When I was a kid," said Tim reflectively, "there used to be a female
siren in the movies. Her pet line used to be 'Kiss me, my fool!' Theda
Bara, I think. Before talkies. Now--"

"No, Tim--"

Another long silence.

"Now, Tim, you've simply _got_ to go!"

"Yeah, I know. You've convinced me."

"Then why aren't you going?"

He chuckled. "Look, you've convinced me. I can't stay so I'll go,
obviously. But now that we've covered this problem, let's drop the
subject for a while, huh?"

"Don't spoil a fine evening, Tim."

"Janet, what's with you, anyway?"

"What do you mean, 'what's with me?'"

"Just this. Somewhere up in the house is this oddball Maxwell who hides
out all the time. He's either asleep or busy. Anyway, he isn't here. Do
you have to report in, punch a time clock, tuck him in--or do you turn
into a pumpkin at the stroke of twelve?"

"Mr. Maxwell is paying me wages to keep house for him. That's all. Part
of my wages is my keep. But it doesn't entitle me to have full run of the
house or to bring guests in at midnight for a two-hour good-night
session."

"I'd like to tell this bird a thing or two," said Tim Fisher sharply. "He
can't keep you cooped up like--like--"

"Nobody is keeping me cooped up," she said. "Like what?"

"What?"

"You said 'like--'"