Darling

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He drove the car rapidly down the street, looking occasionally at the girl' s figure, huddled against the door. Mostly he watched the empty road and felt the car glide over the pavement. He turned down Seventh Avenue, and she still hadn' t spoken. At Tenth Street, he stopped the car and turned toward her. She leaned her elbow against the door handle and was already half on the sidewalk, calling, " Thank you," over her shoulder, when he reached over and pulled her back into her seat.

" What' s the hurry? What' syour hurry?"

" I' m tired, Paul," she explained.

" My God," he answered. " You' re fine all night. I really think you' re relaxing and having a good time, but you always make the goodnight the briefest, coldest moment of the day."

" I' m sorry," she said again humbly. " You know me."

" I don' t know you, Gloria. Does anyone know you? Do you ever sit still long enough to be known?"

She was getting impatient, and said, " For crying out loud. How often can you go over the same theme. No, I don' t sit still. No, I don' t like dragged- out goodnights. No, I don' t care if I never see you again. Yes, I' m tired."

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