“Gee, yeah?” Bearcat experienced a sensation he at first could not account for. Without his quite being conscious of it, she had first taken his hand and then slipped it behind her so that now his left arm encircled her waist. The soft feel of her body against his arm stirred him—because Bearcat was not a ladies’ man in the strict sense of the term.

“Well,” Bearcat continued, “’sfunny, but I felt the same way about you, the minute I saw you. When I saw you, I—I thought—there’s the prettiest girl I ever seen. An’ I wanted to meet you. But I didn’t know whether you were with Bill or not.”

“Oh, no, I just came over with him. I knew I was goin’ to meet you.”

“Uh-huh, I see,” said Bearcat. “I’m glad.”

“You think I’m pretty?” asked Babe, her eyes widening into his.

“Sure. I’ll say I do.”

Babe’s head leaned back against his left shoulder. Her lips were only a couple of inches from his when he looked at her. Fate took a hand at that instant. The driver swerved the cab to avoid another car, and the lips of his passengers had a collision. It was a collision that lasted for a long while. It happened at 54th Street and continued to 14th Street, when Babe and the Bearcat came to with a jerk.

Babe laughed.

“Look where we are!”

Bearcat looked and shouted to the driver.

“Hey, buddy, we went too far.” He was referring of course to the distance, not to what had taken place in the back of the cab. “Turn around and go back to 48th Street. That’s where you want to go, ain’t it—Babe?”

“Yes,” said Babe with a hidden smile, for it was the first time since they met that he had called her Babe.

However, once started, Bearcat was not the man to stop. So there were more delicious kisses on the way back uptown.

The little cut in the corner of Bearcat’s mouth hurt somewhat when they pressed their lips together. But when Babe touched it tenderly and told him she would kiss him on the other corner of his mouth, Bearcat denied that it hurt. He began to feel reckless. He had forgotten about meeting Charlie. His whole desire was to see as much of Babe as possible.

He paused in the midst of caresses to say:

“Babe—can’t I see you tomorrow? Can’t I take you out to dinner?”

“Yes,” Babe consented, “but what’ll Charlie say?”

Suddenly the idea of Charlie always telling him what to do, and what not to do, seemed burdensome.

“Never mind Charlie,” Bearcat replied. “I guess I can do what I like.”