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They sat on a bench near the circle with the fountain, where the path curved.

Studs noticed a doodish guy on the bench across from them. He was classily dressed, the kind of a bird who’d go over bigger with girls than fellows.

“Gee, it’s a swell night,” Paulie said.

“I think I’ll be dashing along,” Studs said.

“Hang around a while,” Paulie said.

He sat on the edge of the bench. Maybe they wanted to be alone. He wanted a girl, Lucy, a girl to be sitting with him on a bench, under the trees like this.

“Dear, it’s perfectly grand here.”

“Swell,” Paulie said, looking up at the trees that roofed in the gathering darkness.

“Yeah,” muttered Studs abstractedly, raw with thoughts of himself and Lucy in the park, himself all open so that every thought and word seemed like they were touching an open cut inside him.

“Many’s the times we had in this park, huh, Studs?”

“Yeah,” Studs said, observing that the guy seemed to be looking at her, wishing that Paulie would speak of some of the fights he had had.

He glanced down at Paulie, and saw that his wife had her legs crossed, showing her leg almost up to the knee. No wonder the guy looked. Couldn’t blame the guy; hell, her legs were worth seeing all the way up. If he sat alone on a bench and saw a girl like her with legs crossed, he’d look for all he was worth...But Paulie was his friend, and she was Paulie’s wife. He liked Paulie and liked to stick with him; it was his duty to a friend to tell Paulie, and, if necessary, help him sock the guy. Anyway, he didn’t like the bastard’s looks. Some of the guys might be in the boathouse too, if they needed help, but they wouldn’t. Studs turned to tell Paulie, but saw that he was on to it.

“See anything green?” asked Paulie.

The fellow didn’t answer.

“Hey!” snarled Paulie.

“Paul!” she begged, touching his sleeve.

“Hey, you, I said: ‘See anything green?’” Paulie said, rising and brushing his wife’s hand aside; Studs jumped up.

“The grass is green,” the fellow said, smiling good-naturedly, an expression of almost sick friendliness on his face.

“Buddy, there ain’t room for all of us around here!”

“Yeah, fellow, shove on while you’re all together!” Studs said.

“Paul, please... please, don’t go fighting; he hasn’t done a thing to you,” she pleaded, pulling at his coat.

“Shut up!” he snapped at her.

“It’s healthier in that direction,” Studs said, pointing with his right hand.

The fellow, taller than Paulie, started to slink away. Paulie swung, catching him unexpectedly in the jaw from the side. The fellow staggered, then made a start to run. Paulie caught him, and jerked him around, for Studs, who drove him a fierce uppercut. The fellow punched and kicked back.

“Oh, you will, will you!” Paulie said, his wife screaming as her husband’s fist drove into the bastard’s mouth. It bled. He went down, and they kicked him. He went off, holding a handkerchief to his face.

“Brutes!” she said.

“Listen, bitch!” Paulie said.

A fellow asked what was the matter. Studs said the guy had monkeyed around with his pal’s wife. The fellow said it was good for him. There was a lot of damn mashers like that, and they all needed a sock in the puss.

“And you listen to me. Any goddamn time you sit like you were then, showing off everything you own, there’ll be trouble. My wife ain’t acting like a whore in a public park when I’m around. Get that straight, and don’t forget it!”

She cried, denying his accusation.

“You’re a goddamn liar!” Paulie shouted.

“I’m going to the boathouse,” Studs said, embarrassed; he left without them noticing him.

None of the guys were around. He noticed, too, that no niggers were in sight. He spied a lonesome-looking chicken sitting up towards the front. Maybe she wanted to be picked up. He sat near her, and kept giving her the eye. She was pretty, a baby-faced blond. She sat impassive. He could just go up and talk to her, say let’s take a walk, and get her over on the wooded island. And he’d go back to the poolroom,