"What's a hundred an' ninety-one from twenty-three?" enquired Mrs. Trapes.
"Skidoo!" murmured Spike sulkily. But after Mrs. Trapes had subtracted and added busily he spoke again.
"You ain't such a bad old gink—sometimes," he conceded.
"Gink?" said Mrs. Trapes, glaring.
"I mean you can be a real daisy when you want to."
"Can I?"
"Sure! Sometimes you can be so kind an' nice I like you a whole lot!"
"Is that so?"
"You bet it is—honest Injun."
"Arthur, if it's that pie you want—"