“Again you misjudge me,” said Felix. “You can do all the foolish things you want to—but don’t waste your time doing them to see whether I care. I don’t care. You can stand on your head here on Michigan Avenue if you like. I sha’n’t mind.”
“Shouldn’t you?” she said. “Well, then, if I may do as I please, then I sha’n’t do anything very outrageous. Would it be very outrageous to visit your apartment in the dead of night with this wine, before we go to the dance across the street? Will you be put out?”
“Probably,” said Felix. “But there are other places to live. There is always the park bench, when you have had me turned out of all my apartments.”
“Oh, my enthusiasm for you won’t last that long. Never fear!... Have we enough money to taxi up there?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s take the L. It’s quicker. Do you like me, Felix?”
“I sha’n’t tell you!”
They climbed the elevated steps, and waited for a train. A weary policeman waited there, the only other person on the platform.
“How do you suppose this adventure is going to end?” she asked, as they walked.
“Who knows?” he answered. “That’s the fun of an adventure—one never does know.”