“That monocle-man. You know what I did this afternoon?”
“No.” Bob, however, surmised it would be something interesting.
“I went up to that monocle-man and told him every word I had said to him the night before wasn’t so.”
“You did?” Staring at her.
“Yes, I did.” Setting her cherry lips firmly. “I told him I was just trying to fool him and that I would never—never—never testify to such rubbish, if called on to do so.”
“But you’ll have to,” said Bob. “You’ve got to tell the truth.”
“I’d tell whoppers by the bushel to help you,” she confided to him unblushingly. “That’s the kind of a friend I am.”
“But I wouldn’t have you. I wouldn’t let you,” he murmured in mild consternation. “Great Scott! they’d have you up for perjury.”
“Oh, no, they wouldn’t. I’d do it so cleverly.”
“But the monocle-man would testify, too.”