"Yer machine's ready."
This wouldn't do. I stepped to the door, with,
"Fixed the radiator, did you?"
"Sure. Whaddye think?" Hughes was at work on something for a girl; she perched at one end of his bench, swinging her feet. Worth, behind me, touched my shoulder, and I saw that the girl over there was Barbara Wallace.
She looked up at us and smiled. The sun slanting through dirt covered windows, made color effects on her silken black hair. Eddie gave us another scowl and went on with his work.
"Hello, Bobs," Worth's greeting was casual. "Thought I'd stop and tell you I was on my way—you know." A glance of understanding passed between them. "Better come along?"
"I'd like to," she smiled. "You'll be back by dinner time. If it wasn't the last day, and I hadn't promised—"
Neither of them in any hurry.
"Hughes," I said, "there's another thing needs doing on that car of mine—"
"Can't do nothing at all till I finish her job," he shrugged me off.