"Humph!" says she, flashin' a teasin' glance. "Suppose I don't tell that?"
"My nerve is strong today," says I, chuckin' my hat back on the rack; "so I'll take the benefit of the doubt."
"But all the others have gone to—to do things that will please me," she adds.
"That's why I'm takin' a chance," says I, "that if I stick around I might—well, I'm shy of grandmothers to steal orchids from, anyway."
Vee chuckles at that. "Isn't Cousin Eulalia too absurd?" says she. "And since you're still here—why—well, let's not stand in the hall. Come in."
"One minute," says I. "Where's Aunty?"
"Out," says she.
"What a pity!" says I, takin' Vee by the arm. "Tell her how much I missed her."
"But how did you happen to come up today?" asks Vee.
"There wa'n't any happenin' to it," says I. "I'd got to my limit, that's all. Honest, Vee, I just had to come. I'd have come if there'd been forty Aunties, each armed with a spiked club. It's been months, you know, since I've had a look at you."