"Ballard?" I suggests.
"That's it!" says Vee. "And you say he is——"
"My Uncle Kyrle," says I. "My reg'lar uncle, you know."
"Why, Torchy!" gasps Vee, grabbin' me by the arm. "Then—then you——"
"Listen!" says I. "Hear your Aunty usin' her comp'ny voice. My! ain't she the gentle, cooin' dove, though? Now they're gettin' acquainted. So this was where Uncle Kyrle spoke of callin'! Hot time he picked out for it, didn't he, with me here in the condemned cell? Say, what do you know about that, eh?"
Vee smothers another giggle, and slips one of her hands into mine. "Don't you care!" says she, whisperin'. "And isn't it thrilling? But what shall we do?"
"It's by me," says I. "Aunty told me to wait, didn't she? Well, let's."
Which we done, sittin' there sociable, and every now and then swappin' smiles as the conversation in the next room took a new turn.
Fin'lly Uncle Kyrle remarks: "You had your little niece with you then, didn't you?"
"Little Verona? Oh, yes," says Aunty. "She is still with me. Rather grown up now, though. I must send for her. Pardon me." And she rings for Selma.