“You see, you’ll have to marry me!”
“No, Joe!”
“But I say you shall!”
VII
On a mild, bright afternoon, Elaine and Wilfred ran down the steps of the Sturges house, and turned east. Wilfred had enjoined Elaine to dress plainly; and she was wearing a severe tweed coat, and an inconspicuous hat bound round with a veil. Thus clad, her brave air was more apparent than ever. Wilfred’s heart beat high. Leaving behind them the big house which typified Elaine’s crowded exotic life, he felt for the first time that he had her to himself. Looking at her, he thought: It is impossible that Joe could reach his grimy paw so high! As usual, I have been tormenting myself without reason.
“Now elucidate the mystery,” said Elaine. “Where are we going?”
“Into the East Side,” said Wilfred. “My stamping-ground.”
“Slumming?” she asked, running up her eyebrows.
“No, indeed!” said Wilfred quickly.
“Well, I’m thankful for that. I’m no slum angel. . . . But why should we go there then? It’s not done.”