We ought to eat about six good meals a day." She shook her head.
"No--not yet.I'm too happy with these new wings.I want to fly some more--come on----"He lifted his hand in his favorite gesture of obedience.
"'Nuff said--we'll streak it back now by another road, hump it through town and jump over the Brooklyn Bridge.I'll show you Coney Island and then I know you'll want a hot dog anyhow."He crossed the country and darted into Broadway.Before she could realize it, the last tree and field were lost behind in a cloud of dust, and they were again in the crowded streets of the city.The deep growl of his horn rang its warnings for each crossing and Mary watched the timid women scramble to the sidewalks five and six blocks ahead.
It was delicious.She had always been the one to scramble before.Her heart went out in a wave of tenderness to the man by her side, strong, daring, masterful, her chevalier, her protector and admirer.
Yes, her admirer! There was no doubt on that point.The moment he relaxed the tension of his hand on the wheel, his deep, mysterious eyes beneath the drooping lids were fixed on hers in open, shameless admiration.Their cold fire burned into her heart and thrilled to her finger-tips.
In spite of his deference and his obedience to her whim, she felt the iron grip of his personality on her imagination.Whatever his education, his origin or his environment, he was a power to be reckoned with.
No other type of man had ever appealed to her.Her conception of a real man had always been one who did his own thinking and commanded rather than asked the respect of others.
She had thrown the spell of her beauty over this headstrong, masterful man.He was wax in her hands.A delicious sense of power filled her.She had never known what happiness meant before.She floated through space.The spinning lines of towering buildings on Broadway passed as mists in a dream.
As the velvet feet of the car touched the great bridge she lazily opened her eyes for a moment and gazed through the lace-work of steel at the broad sweep of the magnificent harbor.The dark blue hills of Staten Island framed the picture.
He was right.She had never seen New York before.Never before had its immense panorama been swept within two hours.Never before had she realized its dimensions.She had always felt stunned and crushed in the effort to conceive it.Today she had wings.The city lay at her feet, conquered.She was mistress of Time and Space.
Again her sidelong glance swept the lines of Jim Anthony's massive jaw.She laughed softly.
"What's the matter?" he asked."Nothing.I'm just happy."She blushed and wondered if he had read her thoughts by some subtle power of clairvoyance.She was speculating on the effects of love at first sight on such a man.Would he hesitate, back and fill and hang on for months trying in vain to gain the courage to speak? Or would he spring with the leap of a young tiger the moment he realized what he wanted?
Her own attitude was purely one of joyous expectancy.It would, of course, be a long time before her feelings could take any definite attitude toward a man.For the moment she was supremely happy.It was enough.She made no effort to probe her feelings.She might return toearth tomorrow.Today she was in Heaven.She would make the most of it.
They skimmed the wooded cliffs of Bay Ridge, her heart beating in ecstasy at the revelation of beauty of whose existence she had not dreamed.
"I bet you never saw this drive before, now did you?" he asked with boyish enthusiasm.
"No--it's wonderful." "Some view--eh?" "Entrancing!""You know when I make my pile, I'd like a palace of white marble perched on this cliff with the windows on the south looking out over Sandy Hook, and the windows on the west looking over that fort on the top of Staten Island with its black eyes gazing over the sea.How would you like that?"She turned away to mask the smile she couldn't repress."That would be splendid, wouldn't it?""I like the water, don't you?" "I love it.""Water and hills both right together! I reckon my father must 'a' been a sea-captain and my mother from the mountains----"He said this with a pathos that found the girl's heart.What a pitiful, lonely life, a boy's without even the memory of a mother or father! The mother instinct rose in a resistless flood of pity.Her eyes grew suddenly dim.
"Well," he said briskly, "now for the dainty job! I've got to jump my way through that Coney Island bunch.You see my low speed's a racing pace for an everyday car.All I can do in a crowd is to jump from one crossing to the next and cut her power off every time.You can bet I'll make a guy or two jump with me----""You won't hurt anyone?" she pleaded.
"Lord, no! I wouldn't dare to put her through that mob in the afternoon.I'd kill a regiment of 'em.But it's early--just the shank of themorning.There's nobody down here yet."
