“I ki-ki-ki—I can’t tell you,” gulped Darcy. “Mr. Dunne—I mean, I ki-ki-ki—”
“Yes,” encouraged Gloria. “What awful thing have you done to Andy Dunne? Kissed him?”
“No! Worse.”
“Oh! You ki-ki-killed him, I suppose,” twinkled Gloria.
“I don’t know. I hope so. I ki-ki-kicked him. I kicked him good!”
“Darcy! Where?”
“On the chin.”
“What did he do?”
“Disappeared.”
“Do I understand that you kicked him into microscopical pieces?”