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It was Bloeckman; as always, infinitesimally improved, of subtler intonation, of more convincing ease. "I'm awfully glad you did." Anthony raised his voice to a vine-covered window: "Glor-i-a! We've got a visitor!" "I'm in the tub," wailed Gloria politely. With a smile the two men acknowledged the triumph of her alibi. "She'll be down. Come round here on the side-porch. Like a drink?
She wished that she could try it again. A mad plan to call up in the morning and ask for a new trial took possession of her, and as suddenly faded. It seemed neither politic nor polite to ask another favor of Bloeckman. The third day of waiting found her in a highly nervous condition.
"You'll have to come and see us." Anthony was surprised at his own courtesy. "I'm sure Gloria'd be delighted to see an old friend. Anybody'll tell you where the house is it's our second season there." "Thank you." Then, as though returning a complementary politeness: "How is your grandfather?" "He's been well. I had lunch with him to-day." "A great character," said Bloeckman severely.
"This bum tried to blackmail me!" said Bloeckman, and then, his voice rising to a faintly shrill note of pride: "He got what was coming to him!" The little man turned to a waiter. "Call a policeman!" he commanded. "Oh, no," said Bloeckman quickly. "I can't be bothered. Just throw him out in the street.... Ugh! What an outrage!"
The Ancient Soul breathed a gasp of relief it was out at last. Then as if she had been considering it for five minutes, Gloria made a sudden announcement: "I'm going to give a party." "Oh, can I come?" cried Muriel with facetious daring. "A dinner. Seven people: Muriel and Rachael and I, and you, Dick, and Anthony, and that man named Noble I liked him and Bloeckman."
He could find no such person, and was about to close the book when it flashed into his mind that Gloria had mentioned a change of name. It was the matter of a minute to find Joseph Black then he waited in the booth while central called the number. "Hello-o. Mr. Bloeckman I mean Mr. Black in?" "No, he's out this evening. Is there any message?"
He returned to the operator, leaning over her desk and fingering his quarter as though loath to leave unsatisfied. "Call Mr. Bloeckman," he said suddenly. His own words surprised him. The name had come from some crossing of two suggestions in his mind. "What's the number, please?" Scarcely conscious of what he did, Anthony looked up Joseph Bloeckman in the telephone directory.
He felt that she had been playing with the idea of marrying Bloeckman, and it was well possible that this disappointment in Anthony might throw her on sudden impulse into Bloeckman's arms. The idea drove him childishly frantic. He wanted to kill Bloeckman and make him suffer for his hideous presumption.
In a moment he recognized Joseph Bloeckman. Simultaneously they both half rose, were half embarrassed, and exchanged what amounted to a half handshake. Then, as though to complete the matter, they both half laughed. "Well," remarked Anthony without inspiration, "I haven't seen you for a long time." Immediately he regretted his words and started to add: "I didn't know you lived out this way."
I just can't make my shoulders behave when I hear that." Mr. Bloeckman clapped his hands gallantly. "You ought to be on the stage." "I'd like to be!" cried Muriel; "will you back me?" "I sure will." With becoming modesty Muriel ceased her motions and turned to Maury, asking what he had "seen" this year.
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