"I think I told you, didn't I, that I have to go to Chicago myself this week to arrange for the publishing of the new book? What, didn't I tell you? Stupid of me to forget it."
"You did not tell me, and I know you are just going to watch over father, and I think you are wonderful."
She caught his hand and kissed it with girlish gratitude, while he smiled on her with tender eyes.
"Of course, you do not care if my car is smashed," he said whimsically. "I notice you keep both hands on the wheel every minute when you have that precious little red thing of yours out. But my car is different."
"Oh, excuse me," she smiled brightly, winking back the tears.
"Well, let me finish. I have a small apartment in Chicago—not much of a place, but a cozy corner out by the lake where I can sneak off and work when I wish and nobody else can find me. It has a little kitchen and some stuff where Bangs can fix me up a meal, or I can do it myself if he is not with me. I keep the apartment all the time, to be ready for a hurry order, but I have a friend in the city, too, and when I just run in for a couple of nights or so, with no special work to do, I bunk with him, to be sociable. So why couldn't you and Rosalie go up and take my apartment for a week, and I can stay with Johnson? It would be easier for you to stand it there than here—and I think your father would like it."
"Oh, that is just— But the fare— Still, it wouldn't be— Oh, dear me, now I don't know what," cried Doris desperately.
"Of course, I will excuse you for interrupting me, since you ask it," he said evenly. "But I was far from through. I am going to drive up to Chicago in my car. I have a lot of running around to do, out to Evanston and to the University, and all over town. I haven't the time to bother with street-cars, nor the patience to bother with taxis. So I shall take my own locomotion with me. It is a good road all the way, and I can make the run in a few hours. Of course, your father could not drive up in the wind, but you and Rosalie seem fairly healthy, and I have a back seat. So if you feel any desire to go with me, why, I think—"
Doris put her head in her arm on the back of the seat and sobbed. Then she sat up quickly and patted his arm as warmly as she dared with any degree of safety to the steering, and said:
"Mr. Wizard, please wake me up. You have me under the spell of your charm, and I am dreaming things."