"That's a good sign," said Al, "means she's coming around. When she just turns white and don't speak——"
Jim privately opined that he understood Georgia's moods vastly better than Al ever would, and was in no need of instruction on this subject.
"You mean when she has one of her silences," he said, giving the thing its proper name.
"Yes, that's when you can't handle her. But now, she's begun to melt already. So to-morrow evening come for supper, and I bet my shirt you are all made up in thirty minutes."
Jim wrung his hand. "You're a thoroughbred, Al—and take this from me now, I've learned sense. If I get her back, I'll keep her. No more booze, never one drop."
He counted out four five-dollar bills upon the center table. "That's what I borrowed, when I quit," he explained. As he reached the door he turned to confirm his happy appointment. "Six thirty to-morrow evening?"
XIV
THE PALACE OF THE UNBORN
The following morning brother and sister rode down-town together in the cars. "Don't you think you might have consulted me before asking Jim to supper?" she inquired.
"Don't be foolish," he replied cheerfully, "you were locked in your room."