He came to call and showed an inclination to settle down as a member of Kedzie's intimate circle. He had speedily recovered from his first awe at the sight of her splendor. Finding himself necessary to her, he grew odiously presumptuous. She had not dared to rebuke him. Now she thought she would have to buy him off. Skip had had his witness fees and his expenses, and nothing else for his pains. Then Beattie warned Kedzie that it would look bad to pay Skip any money; it might cast suspicion on his testimony. Kedzie would not have done that for worlds. Besides, when she learned what Mr. Beattie's fee was to be, she felt too poor to pay anybody anything.
The only thing she could do, therefore, was to remind Skip of the beautiful old song, “Lovers once, but strangers now.”
“Besides, Skippie dear, I'm engaged.”
“Already?”
“Yes.”
“You woiked that excuse on me when you tried to explain why you toined me down when I wrote you the letter at the stage door.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Say, Anitar, you'd oughter git some new material. Your act is growin' familiar.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“Oh no! You wasn't never in vawdvul, was you, oh, no! not a tall!” Kedzie played her pout on him, but Skip glared at her, shook his head, kicked himself with his game leg, and said, “I gotta give you credit, Anitar, you're the real thing as a user.”