had better hustle, for at four-thirty every day Mr.
Raymond beat it! The boy was an artist in word-painting. He described my
man as a real toff, none of your little yappers. He's going to haul in
the pile and playing honest-to-God--fair, too!"

Joan burst out laughing. Patricia mimicked the ribald manner of the boy
deliciously.

Patricia nodded her thanks and went on:

"Well, I hung around his corridor for ten minutes, Joan; and at
four-thirty exactly his door opened and I had timed myself so perfectly
that he tumbled over me and nearly knocked me down.

"He has better manners than you might expect from such a deadly prompt
person. He steadied me and looked positively concerned when he realized
what a pretty, helpless little thing I am!" Patricia gave a wicked wink
and lighted her fifth cigarette.

"I told him I was looking for ---- and I made up a preposterous name; and
he puckered his lofty brow and said he couldn't recall any such name in
the building, and then I told him I had about concluded that I had the
wrong address, and he offered to look the name up for me, but I sighed
and said that it was too late. My man always left his office at
three-forty-five and that I would have to come again.

"We went down in the elevator together, the boy winking all the way down
at me--and--that's all, Joan, except that you've got to go careful with
Mr. Kenneth Raymond. You don't want to hurt that fairy godmother of his;
she hasn't had many things of her own in life, and I do insist that
while one is grabbing it's better to grab where there is a flock than
pick a ewe-lamb. Besides, this Kenneth Raymond hasn't begun to
understand himself--he's been too busy understanding life. Have a heart,
Joan!"

Joan looked up sedately.

"Isn't it queer, Pat, but now that I know him he doesn't seem
interesting in the least. He's priggish and conceited; he's a poser,
too. It is too bad, Pat, for you to tire yourself out and get such a--a
dry stick for your pains."

Patricia regarded Joan for a full minute and then she remarked:

"You had better go home and get to bed, child. And look here--I give you
this advice free: a fire lighted by an idiot can do as much damage as
any other kind of a fire."

"Thanks, Pat. I'll remember that when I--play around dry sticks.
Good-night, you old, funny Pat, and thank you."

Joan bent and kissed the top of Patricia's head.

After that evening with Patricia Joan clung to Sylvia with unusual
tenac