No wonder she was dizzy from it, and it's quite natural that soon after she felt one of her bad headaches comin' on. So Vee and Helma got busy at once. After they'd tucked her away with the ice-bag and the smellin'-salts, she asked to be let alone; so durin' the next half hour I had a chance to tell Vee all about Creighton and his career.
"But he did seem so refined!" says Vee.
"Yon got to be," says I, "to deal in fake antiques. His mistake was in tacklin' something genuine"; and I nods towards a picture of Auntie.
"I don't see how I can ever tell her," says Vee.
"It would be a shame," says I. "Them late romances come so sudden. Why not just let her press it and put it away? Clyde will never come back."
"Just think, Torchy," says Vee, sort of snugglin' up. "If it hadn't been for you!"
"That's my aim in life," says I—"to prove I'm needed in the fam'ly."