"No preaching," said Johnny. "The slate's wiped clean. Adele's all right for me, and I'm all right to her."
He adjusted his hat, making the two sides of the brim level.
"We're going to move shortly," he stated. "The business can go on where it is, for a while, but we're going to live somewhere else."
Perhaps in the city itself, it appeared; perhaps in some suburb toward the north. But no longer in one to the west. Johnny was developing some such scent for social values and some such feeling for impending topographical changes as had begun to stir the great houses that were grouped about the Princes.
"So you're the next one?" he said presently. "It's the only life. Good luck to you. And who's going to see you through? Prince?"
"Yes—'my friend.' I'm glad you remember him."
"Oh yes; I can remember him when I try. But I don't try very hard or very often. Back in this country?"
"He is."
"What's he doing?" Johnny fixed his hard blue eyes firmly on me.
I was sorry to have no very definite answer. "He has been in the East lately. He'll be back here in time for me."