"Put it anywhere, Minnie," she said loftily, "I dare say it doesn't contain anything reckless."
"Cold ham and egg salad," I said, setting it down with a slam. "Stewed prunes and boiled rice for dessert. If those cans taste as they smell, you'd better keep the basket to fall back on. Where'd you get THAT?" Mr. Dick looked at me over the bottle and winked. "In the next room," he said, "iced to the proper temperature, paid for by somebody else, and coming after a two-weeks' drought! Minnie, there isn't a shadow on my joy!"
"He'll miss it," I said. But Mr. Dick was pouring out three large tumblersful of the stuff, and he held one out to me.
"Miss it!" he exclaimed. "Hasn't he been out three times to-day, tapping his little CACHE? And didn't he bring out Moody and the senator and von Inwald this afternoon, and didn't they sit in the next room there from two to four, roaring songs and cracking bottles and jokes."
"Beasts!" Mrs. Dicky said savagely. "Two hours, and we daren't move!"
"Drink, pretty creature!" Mr. Dick said, motioning to my glass. "Don't be afraid of it, Minnie; it's food and drink."
"I don't like it," I said, sipping at it. "I'd rather have the spring water."
"You'll have to cultivate a taste for it," he explained. "You'll like the second half better."
I got it down somehow and started for the door. Mr. Dick came after me with something that smelled fishy on the end of a fork.
"Better eat something," he suggested. "That was considerable champagne, Minnie."