She sat silent, staring down at the keys of the typewriter. He tickled the back of her neck with one finger. "Well?"
Suddenly she slewed round in her chair, her face quivering, and flung up an arm round his neck.
"All right! Yes!" she jerked out. "I don't care! I'm going to marry you!"She was subjected to a breath-taking hug. "Fine!" Timothy said. "Champagne all round. Jim shall stand it. Oh, I didn't tell you, did I? My brother's up in town, and wants to meet you. I told him to roll along to Armand's."
She disengaged herself. "Oh! Has he come to stop you marrying me?"
"No, my child, he has not. Lay all those quills! He's a very nice chap, and if you're polite to him he'll very likely give us his blessing. I think I'd better push off now, in case I'm discovered philandering with you. No more visits from the police?"
"Not yet."
"Well, if you get any, be polite to Hemingway too! He's another nice chap - and by no means a fool!" said Timothy.
A few hours later, Mr. James Kane rang up his chambers. "That you, Timothy? Well, I'm back, and it didn't go too badly, taken all round."
"Bless you! How were they?"
"Fair. Mother seemed fit enough, but your father's had one of his bronchial attacks. Am I going to meet Beulah?"