“Fiddlesticks, I don’t know. It’s no crime, I suppose. I lay down there for a few minutes, after you hoodlums cleared out, and I suppose I fell asleep and forgot to wake up. That’s all. Lemme alone, and a bath and a cup of hot chocolate will restore my senses.”
“You dear little goose! I’ll run your tub for you. Though I suppose there are a string of maids waiting outside your door. Want ’em?”
“No, rather have you. But send half a dozen of them for some choclit, please.”
Still yawning, Patty began to take off her slippers and stockings. “Thank you, Daisykins,” she said, as Daisy returned from the bathroom. “Now, you light out, and I’ll make a respectable toilette. My, how I did sleep. I was worn out. But I feel fine now. Good-bye, Daisy.”
But Daisy was slow to take the hint.
“I say, Patsy, what did you mean by saying Philip called?”
Patty hesitated for the fraction of a second, and then decided it were wiser to keep her own counsel regarding that matter.
“Dreaming, I s’pose. Certainly, there was no Philip here in reality.”
“But you said distinctly that Philip called,” Daisy persisted.
“Well, s’pose I did? What could it have been but a dream? Do you imagine I had a real, live caller?”