When the triumvirate stood alone, low-voiced and happier exchanges passed.
“How did you know, son?”
“Didn’t know. Aunt Helene seemed too good to be true, so I just stayed on a busted flush and finished a winner. Why not?”
“Why not, indeed?” Jane showed sufficient knowledge of the game to pay over what was due the taker of the pot.
“Welcomed at last to Lonesome Town—welcomed with open arms!” exulted he who so recently had had to welcome himself.
————
And that very night Broadway saw new reason to believe in its signs. Out over Times Cañon winked a re-lettered electric message that lit the imagination as does every such happy ending and happier start:
CONGRATULATIONS
MR. AND MRS. WHY-NOT PAPE
THE END