They talked of all manner of things--games and college East and West--the wonders of New York--the weather, finally.Sam was every moment of the time puzzling how to bring up the one subject that interested both above all others, that interested him to the exclusion of all others.He was an ardent student of the game of man and woman, had made considerable progress at it--remarkable progress, in view of his bare twenty years.He had devised as many "openings" as an expert chess player.None seemed to fit this difficult case how to make love to a girl of his own class whom his conventional, socially ambitious nature forbade him to consider marrying.As he observed her in the moonlight, he said to himself: "I've got to look out or I'll make a damn fool of myself with her." For his heady passion was fast getting the better of those prudent instincts he had inherited from a father who almost breathed by calculation.
While he was still struggling for an "opening," Susan eager to help him but not knowing how, there came from the far interior of the house three distant raps."Gracious!" exclaimed Susan.
"That's Uncle George.It must be ten o'clock." With frank regret, "I'm so sorry.I thought it was early.""Yes, it did seem as if I'd just come," said Sam.Her shy innocence was contagious.He felt an awkward country lout.
"Well, I suppose I must go."
"But you'll come again--sometime?" she asked wistfully.It was her first real beau--the first that had interested her--and what a dream lover of a beau he looked, standing before her in that wonderful light!
"Come? Rather!" exclaimed he in a tone of enthusiasm that could not but flatter her into a sort of intoxication."I'd have hard work staying away.But Ruth--she'll always be here.""Oh, she goes out a lot--and I don't."
"Will you telephone me--next time she's to be out?"`Yes," agreed she with a hesitation that was explained when she added: "But don't think you've got to come....Oh, I must go in!""Good night--Susie." Sam held out his hand.She took it with a queer reluctance.She felt nervous, afraid, as if there were something uncanny lurking somewhere in those moonlight shadows.
She gently tried to draw her hand away, but he would not let her.She made a faint struggle, then yielded.It was so wonderful, the sense of the touch of his hand."Susie!" he said hoarsely.And she knew he felt as she did.Before she realized it his arms were round her, and his lips had met hers."You drive me crazy," he whispered.
Both were trembling; she had become quite cold--her cheeks, her hand, her body even."You mustn't," she murmured, drawing gently away.
"You set me crazy," he repeated."Do you--love me--a little?""Oh, I must go!" she pleaded.Tears were glistening in her long dark lashes.The sight of them maddened him."Do you--Susie?" he pleaded.
"I'm--I'm--very young," she stammered.
"Yes--yes--I know," he assented eagerly."But not too young to love, Susie? No.Because you do--don't you?"The moonlit world seemed a fairyland."Yes," she said softly."Iguess so.I must go.I must."
