"Sure she must go," Birdie answered. "Otherwise, if she don't go I won't go."
"Well——" he commenced.
"And why wouldn't it be a good scheme," Birdie went on, "if you was to ring in this other young feller?"
"What young feller?" Philip innocently asked her.
"What young feller!" Birdie exclaimed. "Why, ain't you just told me——"
"Oh, that's right!" Philip cried. "That's a good idee. I'll see if I can fix it."
He stopped short and looked at his watch. "I'll meet you both in front of the Casino at eight o'clock," he declared.
It was five o'clock and he only had a trifle over three hours to discover a man—young if possible, but, in any event, prosperous, who would be willing to conduct to the theatre a lady of uncertain age with a dark moustache—object: matrimony.
"You must excuse me," he said fervently as he shook Birdie's hand in farewell. "I got a lot of work to do this afternoon."