"Your ward," she said, "is toasting her toes by the sitting-room fire. Kenny, she's a dear!"
"As sweet," said Kenny proudly, "as an Irish smile!"
CHAPTER XXIX
THE STUDIO AGAIN
The night-watchman at the Holbein Club greeted the prodigal with a broad smile of welcome.
"Wonder, I says, to the new bell-hop, I do wonder where Mr. O'Neill's got to. Everybody's been wonderin'. Mr. Rittenhouse most of all," he added, stopping the elevator at Kenny's floor. "I heard him grumblin' just last night in the elevator to Mr. Fahr. Mr. Fahr seemed to feel that you were off with the heathen somewhere paintin' 'em all up into pictures."
Kenny found the studio in a soulless state of order and blamed it instantly upon Garry. Fifteen minutes later, gorgeous in his frayed oriental bathrobe and his Persian slippers, he banged on the wall and evoked a muffled shout of greeting. As usual Garry might or might not be in bed. Kenny's time values had not altered.
Garry came at once in bathrobe and slippers.
"Lord, Kenny," he exclaimed warmly, "I'm glad you're back and sane. But I'm mad as a wet hen!"