I looked at Nanny; and she looked at me.
"He's been up to something," I said. "I don't like it a bit."
"Oh, well," she remarked, in her practical way. "He's home safe and sound again. We must be grateful for that!"
"Possibly! Still, I hope he isn't going to make a habit of these afternoon jaunts."
I escorted Molly and her little heathen god into the dining-room, where we awaited the arrival of Gran'pa and dinner.
When he came downstairs again he looked very flushed and excited, and, for some inexplicable reason, I couldn't help associating his appearance with that terrible morning when he had first read about the glandular rejuvenation of the human race. Had his absence anything to do with this? Where had he really been? And, why?
Although I questioned him with great tact he was obstinately uncommunicative—even stone-deaf at times!
"A little 'bus ride in town, George," he murmured, over the soup, "is a great appetizer, you know."
I do believe the wicked old sinner was actually laughing up his sleeve at me.
"Any other purchases besides the idol, Gran'pa?" I shouted.