Jeffrey took him up wildly.
“That’s the word. They’re decorative; they’re masterpieces. We’ll use them.”
He rushed to the kitchen and returned with a hammer and a handful of nails.
“We’ll use them, by golly, Roxanne! We’ll make a frieze out of them.”
“Don’t!” wailed Roxanne. “Our beautiful house.”
“Never mind. We’re going to have the library repapered in October. Don’t you remember?”
“Well——”
Bang! The first biscuit was impaled to the wall, where it quivered for a moment like a live thing.
Bang!...
When Roxanne returned, with a second round of cocktails the biscuits were in a perpendicular row, twelve of them, like a collection of primitive spear-heads.