They told him afterward that he was immense, and invited him to address them whenever he returned to London.
“Wait,” he reflected, “till I get back to Zenith and tell old Potts and Hickenlooper that!”
As they rode to the hotel on the ’bus, Cleo sighed, “Oh, you were wonderful! But I never knew you had such a wild time of it in your first pastorate.”
“Oh, well, it was nothing. A man that’s a real man has to take the rough with the smooth.”
“That’s so!”
XIII
He stood impatiently on a corner of the Rue de la Paix, while Cleo gaped into the window of a perfumer. (She was too well trained to dream of asking him to buy expensive perfume.) He looked at the façades in the Place Vendôme.
“Not much class—too kind of plain,” he decided.
A little greasy man edged up to him, covertly sliding toward him a pack of postcards, and whispered, “Lovely cards—only two francs each.”
“Oh,” said Elmer intelligently, “you speak English.”