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He wants to know what the blinkety-blink I think I'm doin', blockin' up his right of way in that fashion. "You can't do it! Take 'em away!" says he. "Ah, keep the lid on, old Goulash," says I. "Sergeant, if he gets messy, roll one of those spools on him. I'll be back shortly." With that I blows into the Plutoria and hunts up the tea room. The major's there, all right, and Mr.
Followin' which, Doris uses the powder-puff under her eyes a little and we adjourns to the Plutoria palm-room, where we had a perfectly good dinner, all the humility Westy could buy with a two-dollar tip, and no folksy chatter on the side. Next day the Westlakes calls up another agency, and by night they had an entire new line of help on the job. What do you guess, though?
"Oh!" says I. "In that case it'll be easy. How about startin' in with the tea dance at the Admiral, just opened? Begins at 4:15." "Tell me, Torchy," says she, "did you ever see anyone as as huge as I am at a tea dance? No, I think we'll not start with that." "Then suppose we hop off with dinner on the Plutoria roof?" I suggests.
Yet I maps out the evenin' as if I had a date with Peggy Hopkins or Hazel Dawn. At 5:30 I'm slippin' a ten-spot into the unwillin' palm of a Plutoria head waiter to cinch a table for two next to the dancin' surface, and from there I drops into a cigar store where I pays two prices for a couple of end seats at the Midnight Follies.
Maybe you've seen a tug-boat bobbin' alongside a big liner in a heavy sea. I expect we must have looked something like that. Even so, that flossy bunch of lady typists showed poor taste in cuttin' loose with the smothered snickers as we wobbles past. And I could get a picture of myself towin' the Señora Concita Maria What's-Her-Name, alias Bonnie Sutton, through the Plutoria corridors.
"Report to me at the Plutoria before 5:30 this afternoon," says he. "I shall be having tea there. Ellins, you'd better be on hand, too, so that I can collect that hundred." And that's all there was to it.
Then, not much after that, say three or four minutes, they were all of a sudden back in town again, running along Plutoria Avenue, and to the rector's surprise the motor was stopping outside the manse, and Catherine was saying, "Oh, thank you ever so much, Philippa; it was just heavenly!" which showed that the afternoon had had its religious features after all.
"Well, mother," he said as he entered. There was a woman seated near the window, a woman with a plain, homely face such as they wear in the farm kitchens of Cahoga County, and a set of fashionable clothes upon her such as they sell to the ladies of Plutoria Avenue. This was "mother," the wife of the Wizard of Finance and eight years younger than himself.
And beyond that again the City sinks lower, and is choked and crowded with the tangled streets and little houses of the slums. In fact, if you were to mount to the roof of the Mausoleum Club itself on Plutoria Avenue you could almost see the slums from there. But why should you?
In fact, one was almost compelled to stay at home which was dreadful. As a result Mrs. Rasselyer-Brown and her three hundred friends moved backwards and forwards on Plutoria Avenue, seeking novelty in vain. They washed in waves of silk from tango teas to bridge afternoons.
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