"Grand little idea!" boomed Dangerfield. "Let's all go in!"
"What! In our wet things?" objected young Mrs. Redfern. "I wouldn't put my clammy stockings on again for a million swims."
"Why wear stockings?"
"Why wear any thing?" cried someone in a tone of inspiration.
"That's an idea" shouted Dangerfield. "A swimming party, à la Adam-and-Eve in the warranted respectable darkness. Who's on?"
"Come off it, Wally!" said a woman's voice. "You've got only one pool."
"We'll splice two tennis nets together and run them down the middle for a barrier."
"Why not?" cried the high-pitched, excited voice of Mrs. Carson. "We're all married here."
"Not that I know of," remarked Dee.
"Not that anybody knows of for me," added Emslie Selfridge in a voice of mincing propriety. "Wanted, a chaperon."