THE BRASS BOWL
"You are awfully good," she countered more calmly.
"Don't say that. I'm a clumsy lout. But" He held her gaze inquiringly. "But may I ask"
"Oh, of course—certainly: I am—was—bound for Greenpoint-on-the-Sound"
"Ten miles!" he interrupted.
The corners of her red lips drooped: her brows puckered with dismay. Instinctively she glanced toward the waterbound car.
"What am I to do?" she cried. "Ten miles! … I could never walk it, never in the world! You see, I went to town to-day to do a little shopping. As we were coming home the chauffeur was arrested for careless driving. He had bumped a delivery wagon over—it wasn't really his fault. I telephoned home for somebody to bail him out, and my father said he would come in. Then I dined, returned to the police-station, and waited. Nobody came. I couldn't stay there all night. I 'phoned to everybody I knew, until my money gave out; no
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