It meant everything to Zada that her mate should not suffer either death or publicity. But chiefly her love of him made outcry now. She could not endure the vision of her beloved receiving the hammering of the giant Dyckman.
The telephone crackled under the load of her prayers, but Cheever had only one answer:
“If you want me to run away from him or anybody, you don't get your wish, my darling.”
Finally she shrieked, “If you don't come home I'll come there and get you.”
“Ladies are not allowed in the main part of this club, dearest,” said Cheever. “Thank God there are a few places where two men can settle their affairs without the help of womanly intuition.”
“He wants to pound you to death,” she screamed. “If you don't promise me, I'll come there and break in if I have to scratch the eyes out of the doorkeeper.”
He knew that she was capable of doing this very thing; so he made answer, “All right, my dear. I surrender.”
“You'll come home?”
“Yes, indeed. Right away.”
“Oh, thank God! You do love me, then. How soon will you be here?”