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Updated: May 6, 2025
What did I ever get let in on this private seccing for, anyway?" Well, I got to take it all back most of it, anyway. For, between you and me, this bein' a seagoing private sec. ain't the worst that can happen. Not so far as I've seen. What I'm most chesty over, though, is the fact that I've been through the wop and wiggle test without feedin' the fishes.
If I had I guess they'd have had most of my private seccing gone over careful. But nobody seemed to suspect how giddy I was in the head. I goes caromin' around, swappin' smiles with perfect strangers and actin' like I thought life was just a continuous picnic, with no dishes to wash afterwards. Course, my reg'lar evenin' program is to doll up after dinner and drop around.
"That don't half describe it," says I. "And what is goin' to happen when I report to Old Hickory won't be nice to print in the papers." "Should I say something by Miss Vee when she coom?" asks Helma. "Yes," says I. "Tell her to kindly omit flowers." And with that I starts draggy towards the elevator. Oh, no! Private seccing ain't always what you might call a slumber part.
"The War Department has recognized that, as the head of an essential industry, I am entitled to a private secretary; also that you might prove more useful with a commission than without one. And I rather think you have. So there you are." "Excuse me, Mr. Ellins," says I, "but I can't see it that way. I don't know whether I'm private seccing or getting ready for a masquerade ball.
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