It'll be all the merrier afterwards."
"But--but I don't understand."
"Me either," says I. "I'm a grand little guesser, though. And I'll be
outside, in ambush for Clyde, from seven o'clock on."
"Will you?" says Vee,' sighin' relieved. "But do be careful, Torchy.
Don't--don't be reckless."
"Pooh!" says I. "That's my middle name. If I get slapped on the wrist
and perish from it, you'll know it was all for you."
Course, it would have been more heroic if Clyde hadn't been such a
ladylike gent. As it is, he's about as terrifyin' as a white poodle.
So I'm still breathin' calm and reg'lar when I sees him rollin' up in a
cab about seven-twenty-five. I'm at the curb before he can open the
taxi door.
"Sorry," says I, "but I'm afraid it's all off."
"Eh?" says he, gawpin' at me.
"And you with your suit-case all packed too," says I. "How provokin'!
But they're apt to change their minds, you know."
"Do you mean," says he, "that--er--ah--"
"Something like that," I breaks in. "Anyway, you can judge. For, the
fact is, some busybody has been gossipin' about your little trick of
bawlin' out Alicia over the coffee and rolls and draggin' her round by
the hair."
"Wha-a-at?" he gasps.
"You didn't mention the divorce, did you?" I goes on.
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