“Some day,” he said, “I shall drop over of heart failure on receiving one of your wires, and then where will you be?”
“The circumstances were unusual,” Tish said with dignity.
“I’ll tell the world they were!” he said. “Unusual as h—l.”
He then lapsed into silence, and so remained until we were in the taxicab, on our way to Tish’s apartment. Then he leaned forward and stared fixedly at his Aunt Letitia.
“Now!” he said. “We’re going to have the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. What about that elephant?”
Tish raised her eyebrows.
“Elephant?” she said.
“‘Elephant’ is the word I used. Look me square in the eye, last surviving female relative of mine, and deny you had anything to do with it! The moment the Associated Press wires began to come in, I knew.”
“Very well,” Tish said acidly. “If you know, there is no need to explain.”
And from that moment to this, she never has.