“How did she take the news?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t know!”
“I just got my orders this morning. Won’t see her until to-morrow night.”
“Coming to dinner?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll pull a party—farewell party with all the trimmings, eh? I’ll get Madeleine and we’ll dig up a bottle of champagne and wring a poulet out of Arlette if we have to call in the police to help us. I’ll bet they would, at that.”
“It won’t be a very merry party,” said Ken, lugubriously.
Bert turned and looked at Ken. “Huh!... Something eating you again?”
“It’s a rotten mess. I don’t know what to do.”