He
went away angry every time. He simply couldn't be rational. One day
he said he guessed he would have to be the goat and marry me himself
just to keep me out of trouble. Then he blushed, and went home and
forgot his hat.
"Came down to the last day. 'It has simmered down to Harvey Grath and
Buddy Johnson,' I told him. 'Harvey Grath,--Buddy Johnson,--Harvey
Grath,--Buddy Johnson. Do run away, Danny, and don't be a nuisance.
Harvey Grath,--Buddy Johnson.'
"Dan neglected his patients until it is a wonder they did not all
die,--or get well, or something. He sat up-stairs in his study
watching an endless procession of Harvey Graths and Buddy Johnsons,
coming, lingering, going.
"That night, regardless of the illuminating moon, I took Buddy Johnson
to the lilac corner. Dan was up-stairs smoking in front of his window.
Buddy didn't know about that window, but I did. He took my hand, and I
let him. I leaned my head against his shoulder,--not truly against,
just near enough so Dan could not tell the difference. Buddy tried to
kiss me, and nearly did it. I wasn't expecting it just at that minute.
Dan sprang from his chair before the conclusion, so he did not know if
the kiss was a fact, or not. Then I moved two feet away.
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