“Turn out the lights!” Jimmy commanded in so loud a tone that most of their neighbors, as well as Erna, giggled.
A German comedian made his appearance and offered the usual monologue. No musical accompaniment was required for this act; therefore, Carstairs had disappeared under the stage. He had not seen Erna and Jimmy, nor they him.
V
Carstairs was waiting at the street corner rendezvous early the following Sunday evening. Impatience had kept him company all day, a long day, but the impatience he felt now was even keener. He had been ahead of their appointment by about twenty minutes, for he was afraid that Erna might be there first. His vigil was that much the longer and more trying. What hours it took for minutes to pass! Suppose she did not come?
The fates, however, were good-humored. He could see an athletic figure coming along at a familiar leisurely pace. It was Erna. His joy and excitement were such that he could scarcely wait for her to reach him. What made her walk so slowly?
“Hello,” was her soft cheery greeting.
He had avoided the bakery restaurant all day. He could hardly return her salutation, the last of his courage having fled.
“Where—where shall we go?” he questioned.
“Anywhere,” she agreed genially.
Now was his opportunity. He must ask her. Of course, they could not walk the streets the whole of his two hours’ freedom. Nor could they go to the theatre so early. Would she sense these arguments? Moreover, they had been to a restaurant for a little refreshment and conversation on their two former outings. She had not enjoyed those visits particularly, reminding her, as they must have, of her daily life at Landsmann’s.