"Anything. You can't rub it in too hard," said Fred, who went to the mirror to see if his hair was turning gray. "And say, for Mike's sake, think up a new lie— I'm down to dentist's appointments and mother's come to town."
Delighted at Bojo's adherence that saved him from the prospects of a difficult tête-à-tête, he began to recover his spirits; but Bojo, assuming a severe countenance, awaited his opportunity.
"I say, don't look at me with that pulpit expression," said DeLancy an hour later as they streaked through the Park on their way to upper Riverside. "What have I done?"
"Fred, you're getting in deep!"
"Don't I know it?" said that impressionable young man, jerking the car ahead. "Well, get me out."
"I'm not sure you want to get out," said Bojo.
DeLancy confessed; in fact, confession was a pleasant and well-established habit with him.
"Bojo, it's no use. When I'm away from her, I can call myself a fool in six languages. I am a fool. I know I have no business hanging round; but, say, the moment she turns up I'm ready to lie down and roll over."
"It's puppy love."
"I admit it."