Gerry grinned.
“I remember you did like his mother!”
“Lily Blake?” The judge smiled reminiscently. “We were young sweethearts, but she threw me over to marry Henry Faunce.”
“Just so! Now you follow my advice and throw her son over. Diane can do better than that.”
The judge, taken with another twinge of lumbago, growled.
“It’s up to her; but I like Faunce.”
The doctor’s response was an inarticulate grunt. Then he pushed his medicine envelopes into a little row on the library table.
“I’ll send Diane in to dose you,” he remarked, moving toward the door.
“You can’t. She’s gone out with Faunce.”
The two old men looked at each other. Then they both laughed, the doctor without merriment.