"Ye-e-es," says I. "A bit stagey."
"How absurd!" says she. "Isn't it fascinating to hear him talk?"
"Reg'lar paralyzin'," says I. "I was gettin' numb from the knees down."
"Silly!" says Vee, givin' me a reprovin' pat. "Do be quiet; he is telling Auntie about his wife now."
Yep, he was. Doin' it beautiful too, sayin' what a lovely character she had, how congenial they was, and what an inspiration she'd been to him in his career.
"Indeed," he goes on, "if it had not been for the gentle influence of my beloved Alicia, I should not be what I am to-day."
"Say," I whispers, nudgin' Vee, "what is he to-day?"
"Why," says she, "why—er—I don't quite know. He collects antiques, for one thing."
"Does he?" says I. "Then maybe he's after Auntie."
First off Vee snickers, after which she lets on to be peeved and proceeds to rumple my hair. Clyde catches her at it too, and looks sort of pained. But Auntie's too much interested in the reminiscences to notice. Yes, there's no discountin' the fact that the old girl was fallin' for him hard.