"I left my car at the corner," said Quin's companion, nervously
consulting her watch for the fourth time. "You needn't come with me; I
can find it all right."
But Quin hadn't the slightest intention of forgoing one second of that
delectable interview. He followed her to her car, awkwardly helped her
in, and stood looking at her wistfully. In her hurry to get home she
seemed to have forgotten him entirely. In two minutes she would never
know that she had met him, while he----
"Good-by, Soldier Boy," she said, suddenly holding out her hand.
"My name is Graham," stammered Quin--"Sergeant Quinby Graham; Battery C,
Sixth Field Artillery. And yours?"
She was fussing with the starter by this time, but she smiled up at him
and shook her head.
"I? Oh, I haven't any! I'm just an irresponsible young person who is
going to gets fits for having stayed out so late. But it was worth it,
wasn't it--Sergeant Slim?"
And then, before he knew what had happened, the small runabout was
skilfully backed out of its narrow space and a red tail-light was rapidly
wagging down the avenue, leaving him standing dazed on the curbstone.
"Where in the devil have you been?" demanded a cross voice behind him,
and turning he encountered Cass's snub-nose and irate eyes.
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