“How can you really mean it?”

“I don’t know, but I do.”  In their earnestness they had come close to the bars; she stood with both hands resting on the grille, looking in; he in a similar position, looking out.

He said:  “I feel like an occupant of the Bronx, and it rather astonishes me that you haven’t thrown me in a few peanuts.”

She laughed, fetched her box of chocolates, then began seriously:  “If Ferdinand doesn’t find anybody I’m afraid you might be obliged to remain to dinner.”

“That prospect,” he said, “is not unpleasant.  You know when one becomes accustomed to one’s cage it’s rather a bore to be let out.”

They sampled the chocolates, she sitting close to the cage, and as the box would not go through the bars she was obliged to hand them to him, one by one.

“I wonder,” she mused, “how soon Ferdinand will find a plumber?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

She bent her adorable head, chose a chocolate and offered it to him.

[Illustration:  “Are you not terribly impatient?” she inquired]

“Are you not terribly impatient?” she inquired.

“Not—­terribly.”

Their glances encountered and she said hurriedly: 

“I am sure you must be perfectly furious with everybody in this house.  I—­I think it is most amiable of you to behave so cheerfully about it.”

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “I’m feeling about as cheerful as I ever felt in my life.”

“Cooped up in a cage?”

“Exactly.”

“Which may fall at any—­” The idea was a new one to them both.  She leaned forward in sudden consternation.  “I never thought of that!” she exclaimed.  “You don’t think there’s any chance of its falling, do you?”

He looked at the startled, gray eyes so earnestly fixed on his.  The sweet mouth quivered a little—­just a little—­or he thought it did.

“No,” he replied, with a slight catch in his voice, “I don’t believe it’s going to fall.”

“Perhaps you had better not move around very much in it.  Be careful, I beg of you.  You will, won’t you, Mr. Vanderdynk?”

“Please don’t let it bother you,” he said, stepping toward her impulsively.

“Oh, don’t, don’t move!” she exclaimed.  “You really must keep perfectly still.  Won’t you promise me you will keep perfectly still?”

“I’ll promise you anything,” he said a little wildly.

Neither seemed to notice that he had overdone it.

She drew her chair as close as it would go to the grille and leaned against it.

“You will keep up your courage, won’t you?” she asked anxiously.

“Certainly.  By the way, how far is it to the b-basement?”

She turned quite white for an instant, then: 

“I think I’d better go and ring up the police.”

“No!  A thousand times no!  I couldn’t stand that.”

“But the car might—­drop before——­”