a perfectly lovely dancer. I
wonder where he's disappeared to?"

Which seemed to be my cue to report. "Mr. Keyser presents his
compliments," says I, "and begs to be excused for the rest of the
evenin' on account of feelin' suddenly indisposed. He says you can send
him that fifteen by mail, if you like."

"Well, the idea!" gasps Marjorie.

As for Mr. Robert, he chuckles. Takin' me one side, he asks
confidential, "What did you use on our young friend, persuasion, or
assault with intent?"

"On a fish-face like that?" says I. "Nope. This was just a simple case
of spill."

CHAPTER VII

GETTING A JOLT FROM WESTY

You might call it time out, or suspended hostilities durin' peace
negotiations, or anything like that. Anyway, Aunty has softened up to
the extent of lettin' me come around once a week without makin' me
assume a disguise, or crawl in through the coal chute. Course I'm still
under suspicion; but while the ban ain't lifted complete she don't treat
me quite so much like a porch climber or a free speech agitator.

"Remember," says she, "Friday evenings only, from half after eight until
not later than ten."

"Yes'm," says I, "and it's mighty----"

"Please!" she breaks in. "No grotesquely phrased effusions of gratitude.
I am merely indulging Verona in one of her absurd whims. You understand
that, I trust?"

"I get your idea," says I, "and even if it don't swell my chest any,
I'm----"

"Kindly refrain from using such patois," says Aunty.

"Eh?" says I. "You mean ditch the gabby talk? All right, Ma'am."

Aunty rolls her eyes and sighs hopeless. "How my niece can find
entertainment in such----" Here Aunty stops and shrugs her shoulders.
"Well," she goes on, "it is a mystery to me."

"Me too," says I; "so for once we're playin' on the same side of the
net, ain't we! Say, but she's some girl though!"

Aunty's mouth corners wrinkle into one of them sarcastic smiles that's
her specialty, and she remarks careless: "Quite a number of young men
seem to have discovered that Verona is rather attractive."

"They'd have to be blind in both eyes and born without ears if they
didn't," says I, "believe me!"

Oh, yes, we had a nice confidential little chat, me and Aunty
did,--almost chummy, you know,--and as it breaks up and I backs out into
the hall, givin' her the polite "Good evenin', Ma'am," I thought I heard
a half-smothered snicker behind the draperies. Maybe it was that flossy
French maid of theirs.