“Wasn’t it a pity?” she sighed. That was distinctly nice of her. Just like a Cortelyou woman.
“Whew! Jack,” whistled Ferdie Gallaudet. “I thought I should die, and expected to sit on your body at the postmortem.” Ferdie thinks he’s clever!
“Oh, shut up, Ferdie,” I growled, dropping back into my seat.
“Don’t wonder your temper’s queered,” persisted the little ass. “‘Wotinell’ did you talk about?”
“Family matters,” I muttered.
“Oh, I say, that’s a bit shiny at the joints. It was too well done to have verged on that subject.”
“We talked family matters, and enjoyed it,” I insisted.
“Ever hear of George Washington?” inquired Ferdie.
“Kate mentioned him to me to-night, and I promised to put him up at the Knickerbocker for a month.”
“Kate!” exclaimed Ferdie.