CHAPTER X
EARLY in April C. Bailey, Jr., overdrew his account, was politely notified of that oversight by the bank. He hunted about, casually, for stray funds, but to his intense surprise discovered nothing immediately available.
Which annoyed him, and he explained the situation to his father; who demanded further and sordidly searching explanations concerning the expenditure on his son's part of an income more than adequate for any unmarried young man.
They undertook this interesting line of research together, but there came a time in the proceedings when C. Bailey, Jr., betrayed violent inclinations toward reticence, non-communication, and finally secrecy; in fact he declined to proceed any further or to throw any more light upon his reasons for not proceeding, which symptoms were characteristic and perfectly familiar to his father.
"The trouble is," concluded Bailey, Sr., "you have been throwing away your income on that Greensleeve girl! What is she—your private property?"
"No."
The two men looked at each other, steadily enough. Bailey, Sr., said: "If that's the case—why in the name of common sense do you spend so much money on her?" Naïve logic on the part of Bailey, Sr., Clive replied:
"I didn't suppose I was spending very much. I like her. I like her better than any other girl. She is really wonderful, father. You won't believe it if I say she is charming, well-bred, clever—"