“Oh, I don’t know. I just think of things. That’s all there is to it. That’s nothing.”

“Oh, isn’t it! No, I guess not. I’ve never been out with a real inventor before � I bet you think I’m a silly little thing.”

He protested, stoutly. “I should say not.” A thought struck him. “Do you do anything? Work downtown somewheres, or anything?”

She shook her head. Her lips pouted. Her eyebrows made pained twin crescents. “No. I don’t do anything. I was afraid you’d ask that.” She looked down at her hands — her white, soft hands with little dimples at the finger-bases. “I’m just a home girl. That’s all. A home girl. Now you will think I’m