“Ah!”
Marvin thought it over. He had suddenly become Mr. Mahan, and evidently was not going to be invited for any more week-ends. Mrs. Hogg was going to prevent him from seeing Gratia.
Cynthia leaned forward in all her richness and showed her knowledge of King Lear, which was recent. “And now our Jimmy joy, although the last, not least, what about you? We want to know, for Gratia is the King of France and I am Burgundy.”
All eyes turned from Cynthia to Jimmy, while Marvin felt Burgundy’s right hand daringly press his left beneath the table-cloth.
Jimmy took off his spotless glasses and rubbed them.
“I don’t imagine I shall get home even at the holidays. Mr. Ferry has been good enough to ask me to come out to Chicago.”
“Tip top!” cried Marvin.
“I don’t imagine—”
“But you do imagine. You imagine reapers and binders and three-point suspensions all safe for children to play with. When do you leave?”
“As soon after commencement as possible.”