“My dear little question mark, won’t you ever relax?”

The twinkles burst through and she threw back:

“If I did, I’d be an exclamation point!”

Their laughter interlaced, and he switched the conversation and asked:

“How’s Dr. Merriweather?”

“Living with his second wife, still operating every morning, writing textbooks in the afternoon.... No! he couldn’t do that.... Those bitches would have to know the titles....”

Cub laughed uproariously:

The girl asked:

“How’s your father?” A fine radiance wakened her features, and she continued, “I like your father. I heard him talk at the Medical Convention Dinner last winter and I like him, tremendously.”

Cub bowed quickly. Then, to cover his embarrassment, asked: