The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-06-11
He laughed, not ill-pleased.

"Aw, who cares?" he said
 She was fumbling at the plain gold ring on the third finger of her left hand. His eyes lighted up. look of understanding came into them.
 "Oh-that's the ticket, eh?" he said. Mar ried, you? Afraid friend husband will turn up and start something? Well say-what do you say to little spin in my car, eh? Got it right outside-we can run around and get an appetite and then stop somewhere along the road for snack! Sure-sure- on '"
 q shouldnt,' faltered Mary. But, oh I do love to motor"
 "Then come on!. he said "rn just shake this crowd of mine-be with you before you can turn around. I'll show you some speed in that of rnine-some speed Every cops trained to turn his back when he sees me coming"
 In few minutes they spinning north through Central Park; it was not long before the salt air from the Sound cooled her fevered cheeks, and she began actually to enjoy the wild rush through the night air He drove well; the car was completely under his control, despite the dizzy speed at which he drove it. And-he was too busy to talk, even had the roar of the engine and the swift rush of the air made it possible for them to hear another.
 They stopped at last, when it was late, at road-house, where they had a table overlooking the Sound, where the lights twinlSed, red, white, and red again, the water. Few people were in the place; Clay had chosen it for it's isolation
 "So--youre married, hey?" he said when he had given the order. We'll that's too bad. kid. too bad. Don't get along any too well, either?"
 Ou-OutOS all IlSlt, uiS way --DuU IC doesn't weigh much !" said Mary, fippantly. "Tbe trouble with him is he's genius"
 "A genius huh!" said Clay, with great laugh Whats his line?"
 He's musician And he's some violinist, if do say it He writes music, too That's the trouble. He's always thinking about that, when he ought to be thinking about mel"
 She looked at him provocatively, and once more he reached for her hand. But once more 1t eluded him.
 "He plays all the time! p she complained. Morning, and night-whenever he's home! Says he's got to work out the themes for the symphony he's writing, that's going to make him famous. That's all right, you know-but it gets tresome after awhile.'
 'Sure-oh, sure P said Clay. Say, kid why don't you shake him? nice little girl like you oughtnt to be tied up to dub like that!'
 "Oh, you don't know him '" said Mary fright ened. "He'd kill mei You never. saw such jealous man in your life. He's too busy with his music to bother with me--but if any other man looks at me-whew!"
 "Gee-what's he expect?" asked Clay. "The poor suckerv'
 "He expects lot," said Mary. s'Why, the other day met fellow in the street used to go to school with-and of course I stopped to talk with him. Why not?"
 "I should say you would !"
 Well, Otto came along. and my but you should have seen the way he cut up. He perfectly wild. He pushed my friend away, and dragged home He said I driving him mad-that was driving all his inspiration away! What are you going to do with man like that?"
 Forget him." said Clay. Say, it's good thing you met me If Otto ever stacks up against me he'll wonder whether he got gay with Jess Willard or the Singer Building fell down him We're going to be pals. you and I v
 You're awfully sure, aren't you?" said Mary, temptingly. "How do you know I like you much?"
 "I know" he told her, chuckling. Say, where's little Otto tonight?"
 "Playing with his orchestra-there was a concert" said Mary. That's why I'm out Oh