We laughed and bade her farewell.
As the car slowed down at my companion's hotel, the footman slid off the front seat and opened the door. I got up and out of the car. As I turned, I saw the girl pick up her gloves and leave the precious bag on the seat.
"My dear, your bag—"
But, as she got out, the bag left the seat with her. By the lights in the car I saw that it was attached to a chain about her neck; and the chain lay beneath her dress. I handed her out thoughtfully.
"Till Thursday, then," she said.
"Till to-morrow morning," said I.
She laughed.
"I think there ought to be an interval."
"Isn't that just what I'm saying? What about a luncheon interval to-morrow?"
"Well, it mustn't be a lucid one"