Wint exclaimed: “Good Lord; I had forgotten!”
“You’re not going to give it up?”
“Give it up? No. But I’d forgotten all about it. I’ll have to go uptown.”
“You had made some arrangements, hadn’t you?”
“Yes. Hired the Rink. B. B. is going to preside. That is, he said he would. And I asked Sam O’Brien to speak, and you promised that you would.”
“I think I’d rather not,” Chase said, flushing uncomfortably. Wint asked, smiling to take the sting out of his words:
“Not deserting me, are you?”
“No. I’ll be with you. Sitting on the stage. But—I wouldn’t know what to say, Wint.”
“And Davy Morgan is going to speak.” He pushed back his chair. “I’ll go right uptown and make sure things are all right.”
Chase said: “I’m glad you’re not giving it up. I’ll walk up with you, Wint.”