“My dear! you would be tempted, I believe, to flirt with a blind man!”
“Oh, Doro! Never!” Then she dimpled suddenly, glancing out of the window as the train swept on. “There’s a man I didn’t try to flirt with.”
“Where?” laughed Dorothy.
“Outside there beside the tracks,” for they had not yet reached the Summit Avenue Station, and it is beyond that spot that the trains dive into the tunnel.
“We passed him too quickly then,” said Dorothy. “Lucky man!”
The next moment—or so it seemed—Tavia began on another tack:
“To think! In fifteen minutes, Doro my dear, we shall be ‘Alone in a Great City.’”
“How alone?” drawled her friend. “Do you suppose New York has suddenly been depopulated?”
“But we shall be alone, Doro. What more lonesome than a crowd in which you know nobody?”
“How very thoughtful you have become of a sudden. I hope you will keep your hand on your purse, dear. There will be some people left in the great city—and perhaps one may be a pickpocket.”