He can be more brutally polite than anyone I ever saw. I wasn't enjoyin' that ride so much, and it's a relief when we pulls up at the curb. I offers to run in and see if Auntie is back yet, but he won't have it.
"Just lead the way, that's all," says he.
"Oh, very well," says I.
And when Helma, the maid, has used up all her hyphenated English in assurin' us that "Meesus" is still out, I rubs it in by shruggin' my shoulders and glancin' knowin' at him.
"Mees Verona, she coom," suggests Helma.
"Good!" says I. "I'd like a word with her, anyway."
Having just finished her canter in the park, Vee is still in her riding togs; and, take it from me, that's some snappy costume of hers. Maybe she ain't easy to look at, too, as she floats in with the pink in her cheeks and her eyes sparklin'. Wish I could fit into a frock-coat like that, or wear such shiny little boots. Even Old Hickory cheers up a bit at sight of her.
"Why, Torchy!" says she, holdin' out her hand. "And Mr. Ellins!"
"Morning calls right along for me, after this," says I, sort of walkin' around her. "It's worth while."
"Old thing!" says she. "Don't be silly. But what is the matter?"