“Ya-as, you did!”

“I did! Started at six. And I’ll probably drive back to-night.”

“You’re crazy!”

“I know it,” she agreed, “and it’s wonderful� . Can you play the Tommy Toddle?”

“Yeh. It’s kind of hard, though, where the runs are. I don’t get the runs so very good.” He played it. She kept time with head and feet. When he had finished and wiped his lips:

“Elegant!” She took the harmonica from him, wiped it brazenly on the much-abused, rose-coloured handkerchief and began to play, her cheeks puffed out, her eyes round with effort. She played the Tommy Toddle, and her runs were perfect. Nick’s