He doubled up with sudden laughter. Jim, squatting in a chair, eyed him with the same grave attention that he had given to the opening of the speech. He was an earnest, if not a particularly appreciative, audience.
Sheila Pat demanded, "What are you laughin' at?"
"I saw old Lancaster's face suddenly. He's dangerous. His scowl's enough to turn the sunshine into a black frost. But he won't back out now. He's too jolly obstinate. You should have seen his face when Yovil told us his sister had persuaded him to make the evening a bigger affair and invite ladies too. And his 'naughty little cuss words,' Atom! What d'you think he said about your sex too? He said: 'What meddlers women are! Why must they have their fingers in everyone's pie?' Why, James there would be more gallant!"
Sheila Pat did not respond to his nonsense. She said sombrely, "I'm comin' to hear you speak, Denis O'Brien."
"Sorry, old girl, but the invitation's only for Nell, you know."
She shut her mouth obstinately.
Denis approached Jim.
"Jim, what have you got in your mouth?"
The monkey, in a flutter of fear, opened his mouth and shot out a piece of india rubber, a small tube of paint, a button off the chair, and a thimble. He had a habit of putting things in his mouth and carrying them about with him. Denis had taught him already to give them up. As the thimble rolled on to the chair, Jim sprang away, up the curtains, and sat glowering down from the curtain rod.
"He asked Aunt Kezia to come," Sheila Pat said.