For an hour he stood motionless, staring at the upper windows of No. 89.  Then his feet began to hurt, and he paraded slowly back and forth “playing the bear,” as he had heard it termed.  Another hour passed, and he discovered that, if his presence had not been marked by the members of the Torres household, it was at least exciting comment elsewhere in the neighborhood.  Faces appeared at near-by windows; he heard sounds of muffled merriment which made him uncomfortable; passers-by smiled at him and dropped encouraging remarks which he could not translate.  The little policeman, lounging at the next corner, watched him complacently and agreed with his neighbors that the Americano was undoubtedly a fine-appearing lover.

Kirk took his stand at last beneath a street light and gazed languorously upon the windows opposite until his eyes ached as well as his feet.  At last a curtain parted, and he saw the flash of a white dress back of it.  His heart leaped; he raised his hat; there was a titter from beyond the iron grating.  Presently another figure was dimly revealed.  The watcher held his position stubbornly until the last light in the Torres house winked out, then limped homeward, warmed by the glad conviction that at least he had been recognized.

Promptly at seven o’clock on the following evening he returned to his post, and before he had been there five minutes knew that his presence was noticed.  This was encouraging, so he focused his mental powers in an effort to communicate telepathically with the object of his desires.  But she seemed unattuned, and coyly refrained from showing her face.  He undertook to loiter gracefully, knowing himself to be the target of many eyes, but found it extremely hard to refrain from sitting on the curb, a manifestly unromantic attitude for a love-lorn swain.  He swore grimly that, if usage required a suitor to make an exhibition of himself before the entire neighborhood, he would do the job thoroughly.  It did not cheer him to reflect that the girl had a keen sense of humor and must be laughing at him, yet he determined to put in a week at this idiotic love-making before he attempted anything else.  Later in the evening he was rewarded by the glimpse of a handkerchief cautiously waved, and he was delirious with joy as he hobbled homeward.

Night after night he spent assiduously studying the cracks and blemishes in the stucco walls of No. 89 Avenida Norte, encouraged by the occasional flutter of a hand or a soulful sigh from behind the lace screen at the third window from the corner.  But when Sunday came he was in no mood to continue this roundabout and embarrassing mode of courtship longer.  He made an early start from his quarters, taking Allan with him.

“I’ll catch her going to mass,” he explained, hopefully.  “I’ve just got to put an end to this performance.”

“Will you h’accost her h’openly?” inquired Allan.

“You bet!  If she runs away you trip her up.  Oh, it’s great to be in love!”