"I want to, of course," John Quincy replied. "But there's Cousin Dan—"
Her eyes flashed. "I'll say it, even if he was your relative. Ten minutes of mourning for Cousin Dan is ample. I'll be looking for you."
John Quincy laughed. "I'll come."
"Do," she answered. "And bring your Aunt Minerva. Tell her I said she might as well be dead as hogtied by convention."
John Quincy went out to the corner of Fort and King Streets, near which he had parked the car. As he was about to climb into it, he paused. A familiar figure was jauntily crossing the street. The figure of Bowker, the steward, and with him was Willie Chan, demon back-stopper of the Pacific.
"Hello, Bowker," John Quincy called.
Mr. Bowker came blithely to join him. "Well, well, well. My old friend Mr. Winterslip. Shake hands with William Chan, the local Ty Cobb."
"Mr. Chan and I have met before," John Quincy told him.
"Know all the celebrities, eh? That's good. Well, we missed you on the President Tyler."
Bowker was evidently quite sober. "Just got in, I take it," John Quincy remarked.