"That's taking the high dive, all right," says I. "Lets you in deep, you know, when you go shovin' solitaires at 'em. But I expect you've thought it over careful and picked out the right girl."
"She is perfectly splendid," says Vincent.
"Well, that helps some," says I. "One that Mother approves of, I'll bet."
"Why," says Vincent, his chin droppin', "I am sure she will like her when—when she sees her."
"Let's see, Vincent," says I, "you're all of nineteen, ain't you?"
"Nearly twenty," says he.
"How we do come along!" says I. "Why, when you took my old place on the gate you was still wearin' knickers, wasn't you? And now—I suppose it'll be a case of your bringin' home a new daughter to help Mother, eh?"
"Ye-e-es," says Vincent draggy.
"Lucky she's the right kind, then," I suggests.
"She's a wonderful girl, Torchy. Wonderful," says he.