“You’re crying.”

“I’m not,” she cried.

He helped her up and led her to the gardenia. “Now smell that,” he said, and pushed it in her face. “Smell it good!”

Later, he showed her a contraceptive. “That’s the ugliest thing I ever saw,” she said. “It looks like something old dwarfs make in a cellar.”

He wanted her to stay the night and go to work in the morning from Sycamore Street. But she couldn’t, she said. He took her home on the streetcar. From its windows, she spotted Johnnie’s parked car. Hurriedly, she began to tell Jake about him. He listened without comment. “He’s helped me so much, shared his food with me. When I haven’t had anyone to talk to…”

“Where does he sleep when he stays over?” Jake asked.

“On the floor…he gets into trouble and can’t go back to his room.”

“Those people are always in trouble,” he said.

“So is everybody!” she cried. “It’s not the same,” he said as he followed her over to the car. Johnnie was sitting up in the front seat, squinting at a newspaper in the light of a street lamp. He looked up as they approached, his eyes on Jake.

She introduced them quickly, then grabbed Jake’s arm and led him away toward the streetcar stop, aware that Johnnie was watching them intently. She felt everything was about to be revealed, all her secrets, all her lies. She wished Jake gone forever.

“I’d better go back,” she said pleadingly. “I haven’t seen him for a while and I owe it to him. He’s probably just going to stay an hour or so.”

“I want you to come back with me,” Jake said.

“Oh! I can’t, Jake!” She was exasperated. “I’m too tired!”

He gave in with a shrug, then kissed her cheek. She turned away, frantic to be in her room, not caring what Jake thought. “Tomorrow?” he asked almost timidly. “Yes, yes…” she promised.

She looked back once. Jake stood there, looking down at the tracks, a tall lank figure, his head drooping.

“So that’s what you’ve been up to,” Johnnie said. “You bad thing…you certainly fooled old Johnnie.”

“Oh, hush!” she said.