“If you're depending on ME for your future offspring,” answered Jimmy, wagging his head with the air of a man reckless of consequences, “you are NOT a father.”
“Depending on YOU?” gasped Alfred, and he stared at his friend in bewilderment. “What do you mean by that?”
“Ask them,” answered Jimmy, and he nodded toward Zoie and Aggie.
Alfred appealed to Aggie.
“Ask Zoie,” said Aggie.
Alfred bent over the form of the again prostrate Zoie. “My darling,” he entreated, “rouse yourself.” Slowly she opened her eyes. “Now,” said Alfred, with enforced self-control, “you must look the officer squarely in the eye and tell him whose babies those are,” and he nodded toward the officer, who was now beginning to entertain grave doubts on the subject.
“How should I know?” cried Zoie, too exhausted for further lying.
“What!” exclaimed Alfred, his hand on his forehead.
“I only borrowed them,” said Zoie, “to get you home,” and with that she sank back on the couch and closed her eyes.
“What did I tell you?” cried the triumphant O'Flarety.