“This was an 'extraordinary case,'” declared Jimmy, “and you saw what happened this time, and the Superintendent is a friend of mine—at least he WAS a friend of mine.” And with that Jimmy sat himself down on the far corner of the couch and proceeded to ruminate on the havoc that these two women had wrought in his once tranquil life.
Zoie gazed at Jimmy in deep disgust; her friend Aggie had made an excellent suggestion, and instead of acting upon it with alacrity, here sat Jimmy sulking like a stubborn child.
“I suppose,” said Zoie, as her eyebrows assumed a bored angle, “there are SOME babies in the world outside of Children's Homes.”
“Of course,” was Aggie's enthusiastic rejoinder; “there's one born every minute.”
“But I was born BETWEEN minutes,” protested Jimmy.
“Who's talking about you?” snapped Zoie.
Again Aggie exclaimed that she “had it.”
“She's got it twice as bad,” groaned Jimmy, and he wondered what new form her persecution of him was about to take.
“Where is the morning paper?” asked Aggie, excitedly.
“We can't advertise NOW,” protested Zoie. “It's too late for that.”