They got out upon the porch and Anthony locked the door. “If I should show that door-key to any man I know except Carey he would howl,” he remarked, holding up the queer old brass affair before he slipped it into his pocket. He looked down at Juliet in the gathering June twilight. “Don’t you wish we didn’t have to go?”
“Yes, I do,” she agreed frankly.
“Let’s not!”
“We could telephone.”
“Shouldn’t you feel rather ashamed to, so late?”
“Not a bit. But of course we’ll go if you say so.”
She laughed, and he joined her boyishly. She hesitated.
“If I see you looking faint in that girdle shall I throw a glass of cold water over you?”
“Please do. If I hear a sound as of rending cloth shall I divert the attention of the company?”