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He followed down the steps, helped her into the perfectly appointed limousine. An impulse she made no attempt to curb prompted her to ask if she could drive him uptown. They had gone several blocks before either spoke. Then very low came the words:—

“Lizzie Parsons,—you’re a wonder!”

Instinctively she looked about to make sure his whisper had not been overheard. Then she gave a long, smothered laugh and clutched his hand just as she had that night in the three-a-day vaudeville theater.

“Lou,” she breathed, “I’m so glad, so glad!”

“Were you surprised to see me?”

“Surprised? I almost died.” She gave a little gasp. “Were you surprised to see me?”

“Not a bit.”

“You knew me then—at once?”

ssss1 “I’ve known who you were ever since your opening. I was there. Matter of fact, I have you to thank for the brilliant idea that made me an Italian.”

“Me?”

“Yep.” He lapsed into the old lingo and she closed her eyes with a beatific smile. “You don’t think my brains would ever be equal to such an inspiration.”