Reaching over his artificially curved figure to grasp a bit of white that trailed below his coat, he looked up to see a passing policeman eyeing him suspiciously.
“Taking the air?” asked the policeman.
“Ye-yes,” mumbled Jimmy with affected nonchalence and he knocked the heels of his boots together in order to keep his teeth from chattering. “It's a fi-fine ni-night for air,” he stuttered.
“Is it?” said the policeman, and to Jimmy's horror, he saw the fellow's eyes fix themselves on the bit of white.
“Go-good-night,” stammered Jimmy hurriedly, and trying to assume an easy stride in spite of the uncomfortable addition to his already rotund figure, he slipped into the hotel, where avoiding the lighted elevator, he laboured quickly, up the stairs.
At the very moment when Zoie was driving Alfred in consternation from the room, Jimmy entered it uninvited.
“Get out,” was the inhospitable greeting received simultaneously from Zoie and Aggie, and without waiting for further instructions he “got.”
Fortunately for all concerned, Alfred, who was at the same moment departing by way of the bedroom door, did not look behind him; but it was some minutes before Aggie who had followed Jimmy into the hall could persuade him to return.
After repeated and insistent signals both from Aggie and Zoie, Jimmy's round red face appeared cautiously around the frame of the door. It bore unmistakable indications of apoplexy. But the eyes of the women were not upon Jimmy's face, they too had caught sight of the bit of white that hung below his coat, and dragging him quickly into the room and closing the door, Aggie proceeded without inquiry or thanks to unbutton his coat and to take from beneath it the small object for which she and Zoie had been eagerly waiting.
“Thank Heaven!” sighed Zoie, as she saw Aggie bearing the latest acquisition to Alfred's rapidly increasing family safely toward the crib.