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Rh "Preposterous!"

"Then take me along."

"All right! You may go."

Barry knew that she would have her own way about it eventually, and that he might as well yield first as last.

They had left Main Street and were bowling along up the avenue toward Fountain Park, the exclusive residence district in which they both lived. It was a very mild and beautiful September evening. The balmy air, the shadowy twilight, the moving car, the overhanging trees, were all suggestive of romance. And Miss Chichester was not averse to romance—under proper auspices.

"I think," she said, "that I caught a glimpse of the new moon just beyond the tower of Christ Church as we turned the corner. Did you see it, Barry?"

"No." Barry did not intend to be abrupt, but his mind was occupied just then by the vision of another woman's face.

"Don't you want to look at it?" she asked. "It must be back of us somewhere. We're far enough up the hill now to see it plainly."

"If I turn around I'll have to stop the car."

"Then stop it. It's worth while."

Barry stopped the car and started to turn his head.

"Don't look yet!" exclaimed Miss Chichester. "Over which shoulder must you see it in order to have good luck?"

"Blessed if I know!"

"Neither do I. I'll tell you what we'll do, Barry. You look at it over your right shoulder, and I'll look at it over my left; then one of us two will have good luck anyway. It really doesn't matter which one."

"All right!"

Miss Chichester turned her head slowly to the left, while Barry turned his slowly to the right, and so they faced each other. Now, when a susceptible young