“But were you here in the—”
“In the dark? Yes! Waiting? Yes!”
Bibbs was radiant; he felt suffocated with happiness. He began to scold her.
“But it's not safe, and I'm not worth it. You shouldn't have—you ought to know better. What did—”
“I only waited about twelve seconds,” she laughed. “I'd just got here.”
“But to come all this way and to this part of town in the dark, you—”
“I was in this part of town already,” she said. “At least, I was only seven or eight blocks away, and it was dark when I came out, and I'd have had to go home alone—and I preferred going home with you.”
“It's pretty beautiful for me,” said Bibbs, with a deep breath. “You'll never know what it was to hear your laugh in the darkness—and then to—to see you standing there! Oh, it was like—it was like—how can I TELL you what it was like?” They had passed beyond the crowd now, and a crossing-lamp shone upon them, which revealed the fact that again she was without her furs. Here was a puzzle. Why did that adorable little vanity of hers bring her out without them in the DARK? But of course she had gone out long before dark. For undefinable reasons this explanation was not quite satisfactory; however, allowing it to stand, his solicitude for her took another turn. “I think you ought to have a car,” he said, “especially when you want to be out after dark. You need one in winter, anyhow. Have you ever asked your father for one?”
“No,” said Mary. “I don't think I'd care for one particularly.”
“I wish you would.” Bibbs's tone was earnest and troubled. “I think in winter you—”