“I must hurry,” the boy thought. “It will soon be our suppertime.” He ran until he was at Pansetta’s house—then came the indecision: Should he go in? Or not go in? He was ashamed of his treatment of her and embarrassed. Should he go on by as if he had not meant to call? Suppose she shut the door in his face! Or, worse, suppose she asked him to say awhile! Should he stay? What Tempy had said didn’t matter any more. He wanted to be friends with Pansetta again. He wanted her to know he still liked her and wanted to walk home with her. But how could he say it? Had she seen him from the window? Maybe he could turn around and go back, and see her Monday at school.

“No! I’m not a coward,” he declared. “Afraid of a girl! I’ll walk right up on the front porch and knock!” But the small house looked very quiet and the lace curtains were tightly drawn together at the windows.... He knocked again. Maybe there was no one home.... Yes, he heard somebody.

Finally Pansetta peeped through the curtains of the glass in the front door. Then she opened the door and smiled surprisingly, her hair mussed and her creamy-brown skin pink from the warm blood pulsing just under the surface. Her eyes were dark and luminous, and her lips were moist and red.

“It’s Sandy!” she said, turning to address someone inside the front room.

“O, come in, old man,” a boy’s voice called in a tone of forced welcome, and Sandy saw Jimmy Lane sitting on the couch adjusting his collar self-consciously. “How’s everything, old scout?”

“All right,” Sandy stammered. “Say, Pansy, I—I—Do you know—I mean, what is the subject we’re supposed to write on for English Monday? I must of forgotten to take it down.”

“Why, ‘A Trip to Shakespeare’s England.’ That’s easy to remember, silly. You must have been asleep.... Won’t you sit down?”

“No, thanks, I’ve—I guess I got to get back to supper.”

“Jesus!” cried Jimmy jumping up from the sofa. “Is it that late? I’m due on bells at six o’clock. Wait a minute, Sandy, and I’ll walk up with you as far as the hotel. Boy, I’m behind time!” He picked up his coat from the floor, and Pansetta held it for him while he thrust his arms into the sleeves, glancing around meanwhile for his cap, which lay among the sofa-pillows. Then he kissed the girl carelessly on the lips as he slid one arm familiarly around her waist.

“So long, baby,” he said, and the two boys went out. On the porch Jimmy lit a cigarette and passed the pack to Sandy.

Jimmy Lane looked and acted as if he were much older than his companion, but Jimmy had been out of school several years, and hopping bells taught a fellow a great deal more about life than books did—and also about women. Besides, he was supporting himself now, which gave him an air of independence that boys who still lived at home didn’t have.