"Couldn't I help him?" said Skippy craftily. "We should always try to help, shouldn't we?"
"You would have to be vewy vewy stwong for that, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, of course," said Skippy, with his mind on the delicate arch of Miss Tupper's little foot.
Miss Tupper, who was expectantly set for an interesting confession, was somewhat disappointed at the lengthy delay.
"I'm afwaid your pawenth gave you too much money," she said finally. "It ith tho often that, ithn't it?"
There were some things that were too much even for Skippy's imagination. In the present case it absolutely refused to follow such a lead.
"No, it wasn't that," he said slowly. After all it is only the first one hundred thousand lies that are difficult. Skippy's hesitation was brief. He remembered the episode of the fictitious Tina Tanner that had so often served him in delicate moments.
"I almost made a wreck of my life," he began, frowning terrifically.
"Tell me," said Miss Tupper eagerly.
"She wasn't a bad sort; only,—well stage life is different."