Lillian came to my side, gripped my shoulder hard, and looked into my eyes grimly.
"See here," she said, "are you going to be a baby or a woman in this thing?"
I swallowed hard. I knew she was right.
"I'll do whatever you wish," I responded meekly.
So I called Dicky on the telephone, and after explaining my unexpected presence in town, arranged to meet him at the station and go home with him.
"Sounds as if we were going to dine with Friend Husband," said
Lillian, as I hung up the receiver.
"Yes, we are going home by trolley from Jamaica. It ought to be a beautiful trip. Dicky must have been thinking of such a trip before, for he told me there was a train to Jamaica at five minutes of four which connects with the trolley, and he usually gets mixed on the schedule of the trains from Marvin."
"What's that?" Lillian stopped short, then turned the subject. "How would you like to go down to the station on top of a bus?" she asked, "or would you prefer a taxi?"
"The bus by all means," I returned.
"I see we are kindred souls," she said. "I dote on a bus ride myself."