He took polished leave of her; took leave of Brandes with the faintest

flutter of one eyelid, as though he understood Brandes' game. Which he

did not; nor did Brandes himself, entirely.

* * * * *

They had thirty miles to go in the runabout. So they would not remain

to dinner. Besides, Brandes did not care to make himself conspicuous

in public just then. Too many people knew more or less about him--the

sort of people who might possibly be in communication with his wife.

There was no use slapping chance in the face. Two quiet visits to the

races with Ruhannah was enough for the present. Even those two visits

were scarcely discreet. It was time to go.

Stull and Brandes stood consulting together beside the runabout; Rue

sat in the machine watching the press of carriages and automobiles on

Broadway, and the thronged sidewalks along which brilliant, animated

crowds were pouring.

"I'm not coming again, Ben," said Brandes, dropping his voice. "No use

to hunt the limelight just now. You can't tell what some of these

people might do. I'll take no chances that some fresh guy might try to

start something."

"Stir up Minna?" Stull's lips merely formed the question, and his eyes

watched Ruhannah.

"They couldn't. What would she care? All the same, I play safe, Ben.

Well, be good. Better send me mine on pay day. I'll need it."

Stull's face grew sourer: "Can't you wait till she gets her decree?"

"And lose a month off? No."

"It's all coming your way, Eddie. Stay wise and play safe. Don't start

anything now----"

"It's safe. If I don't take September off I wait a year for

my--honeymoon. And I won't. See?"

They both looked cautiously at Ruhannah, who sat motionless, absorbed

in the turmoil of vehicles and people.

Brandes' face slowly reddened; he dropped one hand on Stull's shoulder

and said, between thin lips that scarcely moved: "She's all I'm interested in. You don't think much of her, Ben. She

isn't painted. She isn't dolled up the way you like 'em. But there

isn't anything else that matters very much to me. All I want in the

world is sitting in that runabout, looking out of her kid eyes at a

thousand or two people who ain't worth the pair of run-down shoes

she's wearing."

But Stull's expression remained sardonic and unconvinced.

So Brandes got into his car and took the wheel; and Stull watched them

threading a tortuous path through the traffic tangle of Broadway.

They sped past the great hotels, along crowded sidewalks, along the

park, and out into an endless stretch of highway where hundreds of

other cars were travelling in the same direction.




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