But you couldn't have
pulled him away from that Board scrap with a donkey-engine. He was
unloadin' a ten months' grouch against some of Old Hickory's pet
policies, Mr. Mason was, and he was enjoyin' himself huge, even if he
did know he was due to be steam-rollered when the vote was taken.
"See here, Miss Tozier," says I, "it wouldn't do you a bit of good to
see Mr. Mason now. He's all lathered up and frothin' at the mouth.
But in an hour or so he'll be calmed down, maybe before. I tell you
what; you stroll out and take in the store windows for a spell and then
drift back later. Come up here if you like, or you can wait in the
arcade and nail him as he comes down the elevator."
She thanks me real folksy, pats Vincent on the shoulder, and starts for
the corridor with a long, easy swing that some of these barefoot poem
dancers couldn't execute to save their necks.
"Huh!" says I to Vincent. "Put the spell on us, didn't she?"
All through the rest of that messy session I'd glance now and then at
K. W. and wonder where and how he ever happened to meet up with
Valentina. I was meanin' to pass him the word how she was waitin' to
see him; but after he'd registered his big howl, and Old Hickory had
first smeared him and then soothed him down, he left so sudden that I
didn't have a chance.
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