“Contemptible!” he exploded. “It’s great!”
He turned to Barnes and stretched out his big arm across the table.
“Boy, your hand upon it!”
Barnes seized the hand, and that firm grip, if nothing else, made it seem all worth while.
“Aunt Philomela—” began Barnes, still anxious to absolve Miss Schuyler.
But the doctor interrupted him with a loud laugh. He threw back his head and laughed as he had not laughed in twenty years.
“She told me a yarn that was pretty hard to swallow,” he roared, “but, Lord, it was a good one.”
“Don’t,” she pleaded.
“She told me about Billy who had lost four fingers, and—”
“Le voilà,” interrupted Barnes, swinging upon Aunt Philomela, “I warned you to be accurate.”