Time and space ceased to exist for him and blessed
infinity set in. And then----
"Good gracious!" she cried, starting up. "Where are we? I'd forgotten all
about our cross-street."
As a matter of fact they were in Harlem.
All the way back Eleanor refused to be serious about anything. The
mischievous, contradictory, incalculable little devil that always lurked
in her took full possession. She teased Quin, and laughed at him, leading
him on one minute and running to cover the next.
When they reached the apartment, she tripped up the five flights as
lightly as a bird, and Quin, in his effort to keep up with her, overtaxed
himself and paid the penalty. Heart and lungs were behaving outrageously
when he reached the top landing, and he had to steady himself by the
banister.
"Oh, Quin, I ought to have remembered!" Eleanor cried, with what he
considered divine compassion. "I can't bear to hear you cough like that!
It sounds as if it were tearing you to pieces."
"It's nothing!" said Quin, struggling to get his breath. "I'll be all
right in a minute. What's the box by the door?"
Eleanor's glance followed his.
"If that old walrus, Pfingst, has dared to send me flowers again!" she
cried, pouncing on the card and holding it so they both could read it.
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