o I get my orders
to round up Lucy Lee when I'm through at the office and tow her out
home. Hence this openin' scene in the taxi where I finds myself being
sized up coy and curious.

There's only one way of describin' Lucy Lee. She's a sweet young thing.
Nothing big or bouncy about her. No. One of these half-portions. But
cute and kittenish from the tip of her double A pumps to the floppy hat
brim which only half hides a dangerous pair of eyes.

"So good of you, Mr. Ballard," says she, shootin' over a shy look, "to
take all this trouble for poor little me."

"It's a gift," says I. "Comes natural. What about baggage?"

"I've sent a few things by express," says she. "Thank you so much,
Mr.--er--Do you know, I've heard such a lot about you from dear Vee that
I simply must call you Torchy."

"If it's a case of must," says I, "then go to it."

I'll admit it was a bit sudden, but Lucy Lee is such a chummy young
party, and so easy to get acquainted with, that it don't seem odd after
the first few times. First off she wants to know all about the baby, and
when I've shown her the latest snapshot, and quoted a couple of his
bright remarks, translated free, she announces right off that he must be
wonderful.

"Simp-ly wonderful!" is Lucy Lee's way of puttin' it, as she gazes
admirin' at me.

Course, I don't deny it. Then she wants to know how long we've been
living out on Long Island, and what the house is like, and about my work
with the Corrugated Trust, and as I give her the details she listens
with them big eyes gettin' wider and wider.

"Simp-ly wonderful!" says Lucy Lee.

And somehow, just by workin' that system, she begins to register. First
off I was only kind of amused by it. But before we'd driven a dozen
blocks I was being rapidly convinced that here, at last, was somebody
who really understood. You know how it is. You feel that you're a great
strong noble man, so wise in the head that there's no use tryin' to
conceal it from eyes like that; and yet so kind and generous that you
don't mind talking to any simple young person who might be helped by it.

Oh, yes. A half hour with Lucy Lee and you're apt to need an elastic hat
band. You never knew you could reel off such entertainin' chat. Why,
without half tryin' I could start that ripply laugh of hers going and
get the dimples playin' tag with her blushes. By the time we gets home I
feels like a reg'lar guy.

"Cute little thing, ain't she?" I remarks to Vee