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She was regarding him now with the old curious look that had puzzled him. "You're just as perfectly nice as I knew you were," she announced, with an obvious pride in this bit of proved wisdom. "Good-night!" From a distance of five feet she bestowed the little double-nod upon him and fled. "Good-night!" he managed to call after her. Then he was aware that he had wanted to call her "Chubbins!"
Talk you to death suffergette! Oh! say!" Reaching the street, his gloom was not at all lightened by the discovery of the flapper in the waiting car. She gave him the little double-nod and regarded him with that peculiar steely kindness he so well remembered. It was undoubtedly kind, that look, yet there was an implacable something in its quality that dismayed him.
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