Back in the lofty office that Saturday morning he sat under the eye of
Breede, in outward seeming a neat and efficient amanuensis. In truth he
was pluming himself as a libertine of rare endowments. He openly and
shamelessly wished he had kissed the creature again. When the next
opportunity came she wouldn't get off so lightly, he could tell her
that. It was base, but it was thrilling. He would abandon himself. He
would take her hand and hold it the very first time they were alone
together. Well might she be afraid of him, as she had confessed herself
to be. She little knew!
It was, though, pretty light conduct on her part. It was possible that
he would not see her again. Perhaps a baggage like that would already
have forgotten him; would have treated the thing as trivial, an incident
to laugh about, even to regale her intimates with. Probably he had done
nothing more than make a fool of himself as usual. Votes for women,
indeed! He thought they should first learn how to behave properly with
young men who weren't expecting things of that sort.
"--this 'mount'll then become 'vailable f'r purpose shortenin' line an'
reducin' heavy grades," dictated the unconscious father of the baggage.
"I kissed that smug-faced little brat of yours last night," wrote Bean
immediately thereafter. He didn't care. He would put the thing down
plainly, right under Breede's nose.
"With 'creased freight earnin's these 'provements may be 'spected t' pay
f'r 'emselves," continued Breede.
"And I don't say I wouldn't do the same thing over again," Bean slipped
in skilfully.
He winced to think he might some day have a daughter of his own that
would "carry on" just so with young men who would be all right if they
were only let alone. He found new comfort in the reflection that his
first-born would be a boy--to grow up and be the idol of a nation.
But a little later he was again thinking of her as "Chubbins," wishing
he had called her that, wishing she had stayed longer out in the scented
night--the wonderful smoothness of her yielding cheek! Her little tricks
of voice and manner came back to him, her quick little patting of
Grandma's back at unexpected moments, the tilting of her head like a
listening bird, that inexplicable look as her eyes enveloped him, a tiny
scar at her temple, mark of an early fall from her pony.
He became sentimental to a maudlin degree. She would go on in her
shallow way of life, smashing windows, voting, leading perfectly decent
young men to do things they never meant to do; but he, the tender, the
true, the ever-earnest, he would not recover from the wound that frail
one had so carelessly inflicted. He would be a changed man, with hair
prematurely graying at the temples, like Gordon Dane's, hiding his hurt
under a mask of light cynicism to all but persons of superior insight.
The heartless quip, the mad jest on his lips! And years afterward, a
deeply serious and very beautiful woman would divine his sorrow and win
him back to his true self.
The wedding! The drive from the church! The carriage is halted by a
street crowd. A stalwart policeman appears. He has just arrested two
women, confirmed window-smashers--Grandma, the Demon, and the flapper.
The flapper gives him one long look, then bows her head. She sees all
the nobility she has missed. Serve her right, too!
Noon came and he was about to leave the office. He was still the changed
man of quip and jest. Desperately he jested with old Metzeger, who was
regretfully, it seemed, relinquishing his adored ledgers from Saturday
noon until Monday morning.
"Say, I want to borrow nineteen thousand eleven hundred and eighty-nine
dollars and thirty-seven cents until the sixteenth at seven minutes to
eleven."
Old Metzeger repeated the numbers accurately. He looked wistful, but he
knew it was a jest.
"Telephone for Boston Bean!" cried an office boy, dryly affecting to be
unconscious of his wit.
He rushed nervously for the booth. No one in the great city had ever
before found occasion to telephone him. He thought of Professor
Balthasar. Balthasar would warn him to fly at once; that all was
discovered.