“What do you mean?”
“Aw, you know what I mean!” say to her ardently. “Anybody ever tell you your eyes are pretty?”
“Fresh!” She starts picking at the ukelele again, slightly confused.
“Come on now, babe,” you plead again. “Give us a tune.”
“I don’t know anything new,” she apologizes in advance. “Do you know that one ‘I Can’t Give You Anything But Love’?”
“Go ahead,” you murmur.
She plays the song, and then another, and another. The sun approaches the horizon and the ocean turns dark and green.
“Gee,” says Eloise in low tones, “I got to go.”
“Wait a minute, babe.” Stand up and rumple her hair affectionately before leaving. Eloise shrouds herself in her bathrobe and waits. Presently you come back through the night, carrying two hot-dogs dripping mustard.
“Surround that,” you order, proffering one. “It’s a swell night. Anybody worrying about you? You cold?”