"Oh, Chimp," said Mr. Molloy, his face clearing. "Yes, Chimp would do it."
"Who," asked Mr. Carmody, "is Chimp?"
"A good friend of mine. You wouldn't know him."
Mr. Carmody scratched at the gravel with his toe, and for a long minute there was silence in the garden. Mr. Molloy looked at Mrs. Molloy. Mrs. Molloy looked at Mr. Molloy. Mr. Molloy closed his left eye for a fractional instant, and in response Mrs. Molloy permitted her right eyelid to quiver. But, perceiving that this was one of the occasions on which a strong man wishes to be left alone to commune with his soul, they forebore to break in upon his reverie with jarring speech.
"Well, I'll think it over," said Mr. Carmody.
"Atta-boy!" said Mr. Molloy.
"Sure. You take a nice walk around the block all by yourself," advised Mrs. Molloy, "and then come back and issue a bulletin."
Mr. Carmody moved away, pondering deeply, and Mr. Molloy turned to his wife.
"What made you think of Chimp?" he asked doubtfully.
"Well, he's the only guy on this side that we really know. We can't pick and choose, same as if we were in New York."