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“I guess you’re right, Doc,” he said with a forced smile.

“Guess? Well, I know it.”

He slowly sat up, then arose.

“How do you feel, Mr. Lonigan?”

“O. K., thanks.”

“Want a ride home?” the policeman asked.

“I think we can manage, but thanks just the same.”

“Well, you had a lucky escape and you better take it easy.”

“I’ll get along all right,” Studs said, taking trial steps, uneasy because so many people were still watching him.

Catherine took his arm, and they turned back to the doctor. “Thanks, Doc. Do I owe you anything on this?”

“Forget it, forget it. But do as I told you. Go easy, and see your doctor regularly. If you don’t, the next time may be more serious.”

“I’ll see to it that he does, and thank you very, very much, Doctor,” Catherine said.

“I better go and wash up a bit,” Studs said to Catherine as they walked to their bundle of clothing.

“No! no, you can’t. These are old clothes you have anyway,” Catherine said, fiercely insistent.

He was just as pleased, because, anyway, he was afraid of even going back near the water. He caught the expression of worry knitted on her face, and he felt soft toward her, dependent. She was the one person on whom he could most surely rely. She was his woman, he told himself with mounting pride.

He lethargically pulled his clothes on over his swimming suit, and they trailed off the beach, glad to get away from people who kept staring and staring at them.

IV

“Bill, you must promise me that you’re going to take better care of yourself,” Catherine said, walking arm-and-arm with him toward South Shore Drive.

“I’m all right,” he said gruffly.

“I know, Bill. I was talking to the doctor. He said you have to take care of yourself, very good care, too.”

“I’m all right,” he repeated, glancing away to keep her from getting a clear view of his face.

“You’re not. You look very bad now, too. He told me. He told me you had a very weak heart, a cardiac condition, and you can’t, under any circumstances, overstimulate it,” she said, frowning at him when he pulled out a cigarette. “And the first thing you’re going to do is to stop smoking,” she snapped, snatching the cigarette from his mouth.

“I guess you’re right,” he said apologetically as they turned onto South Shore Drive.

“I know I’m right. And I am going to take care of you from this minute on.”

“What else did the doctor say?” Studs asked with a foolish grin.

“He wrote out a prescription for some digitalis, and you’re to take ten drops of it after every meal. And he said you must see a doctor.”

“There’s nothing really to worry about.”

“You’re not seeing your doctor now and you should.”

“But I tell you forget it. It’s not serious.”

“Forget it! Forget it! How can I? You dove into that water and didn’t come up, and I screamed and thought you were dead. And then the doctor tells me that you’ve got to be extremely careful. And you tell me to forget it.”

“Doctors don’t know everything.”

“And Bill, you know, you don’t, either.”

“Well, I ought to know something about how I feel.”

“Yes, you most certainly should,” she said with kindly worry.

“It must have been caused by the sun or something I ate for dinner that didn’t agree with me.”

They crossed over to Seventy-first Street, Catherine clinging to his arm.

“How do you feel now, dear?” she asked after a period of silence.

“All right.”

“Maybe we better take a taxi instead of walking.”

“No. The walk will he good for me. We’ll just take it easy, as we have been doing.”

“But please, Bill, do what I ask you, because I’m only trying to think of what’s good for you. So come on, take a taxicab the rest of the way.”

“And what about you?”

“I’ll ride with you and I’ll walk the rest of the way home, and after supper I’ll come over and see you.”

“We’ll go to a show tonight. I’ll be all right.”

“No, you’ll rest and go to bed early.”

“I’m better now, I tell you. It’s all gone. It was just one of those heart attacks and it won’t be serious if I watch myself.”

“Oh, look, Bill, here come Fran and Carroll,” she said, and Studs saw