With a muttered exclamation, she threw the box upon the grass. "Is
Miss Susan here?" she demanded.
"I don't know." Ikey's eyes were clear pools of truth.
"Have my daughter and her father arrived yet?"
"I don't know."
"Well, have they telephoned?" Mrs. Balcome strove to curb her rising irritation.
"I don't know."
Patience could bear no more. "What's the matter with you?" she cried.
"Don't you know anything?"
"Not'ing," boasted Ikey. "I promised, now, dat I vouldn't, und I keep my vord!"
Mrs. Balcome seized him by a sleeve of his faded blue waist. "You promised who?" she screeched, forgetting grammar in her anger. "I'll report you to Mrs. Milo, that's what I'll do! How dare——"
A hearty voice interrupted. "Good-morning, my boy! Good-morning!" Balcome grinned broadly, pleased at this opportunity of contrasting his cordiality with the harshness of his better half.