He called over his shoulder with a grin: "Keep it dark—as dark as those black pajamas, Dicky!"
And as long as I could see, he stood on the deck, waving his hat at me as I stood there with my mouth open, my eyes following him with horror.
By Jove, who was he, and what did he know?
CHAPTER VIII
HER BROTHER JACK
"Good night, Dicky!" came up the elevator shaft. And then more "good nights," growing fainter with their laughter as the car shot down.
"Good night," I called after them. "Devilish sorry you fellows won't stay longer!"
"Jolly good lie, Jenkins," I said, yawning sleepily, as I dropped back into my own apartment.
"Yes, sir," assented Jenkins demurely. "It's sleeping on the divan the other night, sir. Eight hours there ain't nothing like eight hours in bed and in your pajamas."