-well, as
though she'd just blown in from the rose garden. You know, kind of
clean and crisp and--and honeysuckley. Maybe it's that pinky-white
complexion of hers, or the simple way she dresses. Anyway, she looks
good enough to eat. Don't do to tell 'em so, though.

"Good morning, Torchy," says she, chirky and sweet.

"Wrong on two counts, young lady," says I, ticklin' her ear playful as
I passes.

"Really?" says she, delayin' her attack on a grapefruit. "Just how?"

"It's afternoon, for one item," says I. "And say, why not ditch that
juvenile hail? Torchy, Torchy! Seems to me I ought to be mistered
to-day. Someone ought to do it, anyway."

"Why to-day any more than yesterday?" asks Vee.

I waits until the dinin'-room steward has faded, and then I remarks
haughty: "Maybe it ain't come to you that I'm a near-plute now."

"Pooh!" says Vee. "You're not a bit richer than I am."

"Boy, page the auditin' committee!" says I. "How strong do you tally
up?"

"I'm sure I don't know," says she. "Neither do you, Mister Torchy."

"Oh, yes, I do," says I. "I've got just the same as you."

Vee runs out the tip of her tongue at me.

"That's the sort of disposition," says she, "which goes with red hair."

"Towhead yourself!" says I. "What kind of a scramble has the cook got
on the eggs to-day?"

"You'd better order soft-boiled," says Vee. "I'll open them for you."

"Will you?" says I. "Just this once, or does that stand?"

"This--this is so abrupt!" says Vee, snickerin'.

"You tell it well," says I. "Just as though I hadn't been doin' my
best to dodge the net! But what chance has a man got when he's
cornered at breakfast and she offers to-- Ouch!"

Vee springs one of them boardin'-school tricks of hers, shootin' a
teaspoonful of water accurate across the table.

"Rough-houser!" says I, moppin' my eye with the napkin. "If your
Auntie can't train you, maybe she'll let me try."

"Oh, no doubt she would," says Vee.

"I might ask her," I suggests.

"I'd love to be around when you did," says she, rollin' her eyes impish.

"Meanin' I wouldn't dare, eh?" says I.

Vee only dabbles her pink finger-ends in the little glass bowl, and
chuckles like she was rememberin' something funny.

"Suppose I did and got away with it?" I asks.

Vee gives me a quizzin' glance from them gray eyes, one of the kind
that sort of warms me up under my vest.

"I couldn't decorate you with the Victoria Cross," says she.