Audrey ordered a highball. He nodded for the same. She turned toward him. “And now, it’s quite out of the question. That’s funny. I mean, my mother and yours have been fiddling around with this meeting of you and me for months. I was pretty thrilled, myself.
I, well, do you mind if I say that I still am?”
“Nope. But it’s out of the question, is it? What’s the matter? Has the fact leaked out that the Baileys come from a long line of lunatics and pirates?”
“My mother,” she replied, “is local president of the America Forever Committee.
Dad’s treasurer.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll find out. Your family’s on it, too.”
They went back to the table, finally. His mother was visibly relieved by his reappearance, and visibly surprised by his evident amiability in the company of Audrey.
Music began—a rhumba. Audrey whispered, “It’s the rage now. We’ll sit it out.”
Jimmie rose with dignity. “London,” he replied, “has not been wholly cut off from the rest of the planet! We shall dance.”