She disregarded the change of tone. His idea had struck her as extraordinarily true. It had never occurred to her. She turned it over in her mind.
“A girl ought to be able to work it, too,” she said.
He laughed.
“Maybe. She finds it easier to work a man.”
“I’m too polite to agree that all of you are soft things.”
“You’re too clever to find any of us hard to handle.”
“Yes? Isn’t it too bad putty is so uninteresting?”
She was astounded at her own words. They came from her lips with no volition of her own, leaping automatically in response to his. She felt only the stimulation of his interest, of his electrical presence beside her, of their swift rush through the darkness pierced by flashing lights.
“You don’t, of course, compare me to putty?”
“Well, of course, it does set and stay put, in the end. You can depend on it.”
“You can count on me, all right. I’m crazy about you.”
“Crazy people are unaccountable.”
Her heart was racing. The speed of the car, the rush of the air, were in her veins. She had never dreamed that she could talk like this. This man aroused in her qualities she had never known she possessed, and their discovery intoxicated her.
He was silent a moment, turning the car into a quieter street. There was laughter behind them, one of the others called: “We should worry about the cops! Go to it, Bert!” He did not reply, and the leap of the car swept their chatter backward again.
“Going too fast for you?” She read a double meaning and a challenge in the words.
“I’ve never gone too fast!” she answered. “I love to ride like this. Where are we going?”
“Anywhere you want to go, as long as it’s with me.”
“Then let’s just keep going and never get there. Do you know what I thought you meant the other night when you said we’d go to the beach?”
“No, what?” He was interested.
She told him. This was safer ground, and she enlarged her mental picture of the still, moonlit beach, the white breakers foaming along the shore, the salt wind, and the darkness, and the car plunging down a long white boulevard.
“Do you mean to tell me you’d never been to the beach resorts before?”
“Isn’t it funny?” she laughed.
“You’re a damn game little kid.”
She found that the words pleased her more than anything he had yet said.
They sped on in silence. Helen found occupation enough in the sheer delight of going so swiftly through a blur of light and darkness toward an unknown end. She did not resist the fascination of the man beside her; there was exhilaration in his being there, security in his necessary attention to handling the big machine. They passed the park gates, and the car leaped like a live thing at the touch of a whip, plunging faster down the smooth road between dark masses of shrubbery. A clean, moist odor of the forest mixed with a salt tang in the air, and the headlights were like funnels of light cutting into the solid night a space for them to pass.
“Isn’t it wonderful!” Helen sighed, and despised the inadequacy of the word.
“I like the bright lights better myself.” After a pause, he added, “Country bred, aren’t you?” His inflection was not a question.
She replied in the same tone.
“College man, I suppose.”
“How did you dope that?”
“ ‘Inhibitions,’ ” she answered.
“What? O‑o‑oh! So you haven’t been forgetting me?”
“I didn’t forget the word,” she said. “I looked it up.”
“Well, make up your mind to get rid of ’em?”
“I’d get rid of anything I didn’t want.”
“Going to get rid of me?”
“No,” she said coolly. “I’ll just let you go.”
It struck her that she was utterly mad. She had never dreamed of talking like that to anyone. What was she doing and why?
“Don’t you believe it one minute!” His voice had the dominating ring again, and suddenly she felt that she had started a force she was powerless to control. The situation was out of her hands, running away with her. Her only safety was silence, and she shrank into it.
When the car stopped she jumped out of it quickly and attached herself to momma. In the hot, smoky room they found a table at the edge of the dancing floor, and she slipped into the chair farthest from him, ordering lemonade. Exhilaration left her; again she could think of nothing that seemed worth saying, and she felt his amused eyes upon her while she sat looking at the red crepe-paper decorations overhead and the maze of dancing couples. It was some time before the rhythm of the music began to beat in her blood and the scene lost its tawdriness and became gay.
“Everybody’s doing it now!” Louise hummed, looking at him under her long lashes. The others were dancing, and the three sat alone at the table. “Everybody’s doing it, doing it, doing it. Everybody’s doing it, but you—and me.”
“Go and grab off somebody else,” he answered good-humoredly. “I’m dancing with Helen—when she gets over being afraid of me.” He lighted a cigarette casually.
“Oh, really? I’d love to dance. Only I don’t do it very well.”
His arms were around her and they were dancing before she perceived how neatly she had risen to the bait. She stumbled and lost a step in her fury.
“No? Not afraid of me?” he laughed. “Well, don’t be. What’s the use?”
“It isn’t that,” she said. “Only I don’t know how to play your game. And I don’t want to play it. And I’m not going to. You’re too clever.”
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, and his
