That's where you belong; that's
where girls on the road to the devil belong--with them kind. There he is
now, waiting to ride you to the devil. He don't need to honk-honk so
loud; he knows you're ready and waiting for him."
Miss Barnet fastened on her little hat with fingers that fumbled.
"Gimme--the key."
"Aw, no, you don't. When you come home tonight you knock; no more
tiptoe, night-key business like last time. I knew you was lying to me
about the clock."
"You gimme that key. I don't want you to have to get up, with all your
kicking, to open the door for me. You gimme the key."
"If you wanna get in this room when you come home to-night, you knock
like any self-respecting girl ain't afraid to do."
"You--oh--you!" With a shivering intake of breath Miss Barnet flung wide
the door, slamming it after her until the windows and the blue-glass
vase on the mantelpiece and Miss Worte, stretched full length on the
bed, shivered.
Two flights down she flung open the front door. There came from the
curb the bleat of a siren, wild for speed.
Stars had come out, a fine powdering of them, and the moist evening
atmosphere was sweet, even heavy. She stood for a moment in the
embrasure of the door, scenting.
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