"Silly!" says she once more.
And then—well, I was watchin' the pink spread up her cheeks, and was sort of gazin' into them big gray eyes, and gen'rally takin' one of them long, lingerin' looks; and we was both leanin' back not so very far apart, with the slides of the cab shuttin' everything else out—and then all of a sudden I heard her sort of whisper "Well?"—and—and—Ah, say! With a pair of cherry ripes as close as that, what else was there to do?
"Why, Torchy!" says she, jumpin' away. "What made you dare——Quick, now, here comes Marjorie. Over on the front seat! And—and perhaps I shall see you again sometime."
"Your eyesight'll be bad if you don't, Vee," says I. "Good-by."
Just before the Ellins' front door closed behind her I caught the wave of a handkerchief; so I guess she can't be so awful mad. Ride back to the office? Say, I paid off the taxi and floated down Fifth-ave. as light as if it was paved with gas balloons.
"Huh!" grunts Mr. Robert, after I'd made my report. "Brought home a steamer friend, did she? Who did you say it was?"
"Well, between you and me," says I, "it's Vee. You remember—the one at the girls' boardin' school tea party when——"
"Eh?" says he. "Ah, that one? Then it wasn't—er—exactly a hardship for you to meet this particular steamer, eh, Torchy?"
"Do I look it?" says I.
And Mr. Robert he winks back; for, as I happen to know, he's been there himself. It's that friendly wink though, that makes me remember puttin' up that game on him with the fake message, and somehow I felt cheap and mean. Here he was, treatin' me white and square, and I'd been handin' him a piece of fresh bunk.