"Trotting, of course," came from the crowded depths.
"But I don't think—"
"Then take me home and go to the devil."
"We'll trot," sighed Willie. He spoke to the chauffeur dolefully, then appeared at the door to wail helplessly:
"There seems to be no room for me."
"You're only the host," said Winifred. "Hop on behind."
"You can sit on my lap," said Ten Eyck.
And as that was the only vacant space, the big man lifted him up and set him there. The footman, reassured by the tip in his hand, grinned at the spectacle and laughed, as he closed the door: "Is you all in?"
Seven persons were packed where there was hardly space for five; but Forbes noted that they were as informal and good-natured as yokels on a hay-ride. All except Willie, and his distress was not because of the crowd.
The car had no more than left the theater when Mrs. Neff was groaning: