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 of the basement that he must find some other girl to take her place.

Al Kessler met Minnie at the Fort Lee Ferry and they caught the seven-thirty boat to Jersey. As they stood in the prow of the boat, the air was so crisp and invigorating that Minnie responded with sparkling life to the beauty of the morning.

White clouds dappled a brilliant blue sky. Great cobalt streamers shuttled across the gray green stretches of the water; long shafts of sunlight made high lights of emerald and cool silver. The flames of autumn had already died, but here and there upon the Jersey Palisades were trees that lay like glowing coals amid gray and blackening ashes.

She was sorry when the boat docked in the slip.

In the hubbub of landing, Al pressed close to her side, guiding her through the crowd, his arm around her shoulder in a proprietary manner. Many people, hurrying past, turned to smile at them. Evidently they were co-workers at Al's studio, because they called out greetings to him, casting sidelong glances at Minnie. When one of them winked at Al, she felt the pressure of his hand on her arm, drawing her closer to him. Embarrassed by his attentions, she tried to sidle away, wondering why it was that Al always seemed so much more familiar with her in public than when they were alone. He had never tried to make love to her, and there was nothing suggestive in his overtures. Minnie was wise enough to know that strangers would get a different impression of the situation; yet not wise enough to know that that was just what Al intended.

In the street car on the way to the studio, Al checked off his final instructions to Minnie. More important than any-