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But if you want someone to trail around the deck with, I'm ready. Only I ain't apt to be very cheerful, not for a while yet." Say, that dope of Vee's about gettin' the feel of the boat was a good hunch. Once you get it in your legs the soggy feelin' under your vest begins to let up. Also your head clears.
"I could almost guess that from the lid you're wearin'," says I. "One of Miss Vee's, ain't it?" She pinks up and goes gaspy at that. "Please," she begins pleadin', "if you would not mention " "I might forget to," I breaks in, "if you'll tell me where I can find 'em quickest." And Celeste gets the information out rapid. They're house-partyin' at the Morley Beckhams, over at Quehassett, Long Island.
So as I tows Peyton out to the house that afternoon I kind of hands it to myself that I've filled Vee's order. And there standing on the front veranda admirin' the lilacs is Lucy Lee in one of her plain little frocks a pink and white check lookin' as fresh and dainty and inexpensive as a prize exhibit from an orphan asylum. I whispers to Vee on the side: "Well, you see I got him.
I expect that's why it don't sound more'n half nutty, too, delivered that way. For with Vee's chin on my shoulder, and some of that silky straw-colored hair brushin' my face, and a slim, smooth arm hooked chummy through one of mine well, say; she could make a tabulated bank statement listen like one of Grantland Rice's baseball lyrics. Do I fall for her proposition? It's almost a jump.
Now, she ain't one to sleuth around, or cross-examine, or anything like that; but what she's missed of this little affair that I ain't breathed a word of to anybody is more'n I've got the nerve to ask. Course, it was her put that corkin' silver frame on Vee's picture in the first place.
It was a case of Vee's being in town on a shoppin' orgie and my being invited to hunt her up about lunch time. "Let's see," she 'phoned, "suppose you meet me about 12:30 at the Maison Noir. You know, West Fifty-sixth. And if I'm having a dress fitted on the second floor just wait downstairs for me, will you, Torchy?" "In among all them young lady models?" says I. "Not a chance.
Someone has hung Vee's best evenin' wrap out on a line to air after having a spot cleaned. It's the one with the silver fox fur on the collar. And it's hung where Buddy can just reach it. Well, you can guess the rest. Any kind of a fox, deceased or otherwise, is fair game for Buddy. It's right in his line.
Sharp as needles, too. I noticed a few threads pulled out of my sleeve. And once when he got a good grip on Vee's skirt he made a rip three inches long. But he was so cunnin' about it we only laughed. "You young rough houser!" I'd say, and push him over.
There was one group standin' a little way off watchin' us; but that look of Miss Vee's scattered 'em as though she'd turned the hose on them. Next minute she was smilin' again. "You see," she goes on, sittin' close, "I'm not much afraid." "You're a hummer, you are!" says I, lookin' her over approvin'. "There, there!" says she. "I see that you must have something to eat right away. Here, Hortense!
This affair had almost been forgiven and he was havin' his lunch on the back porch when Vee's Auntie blows in unexpected for a little visit. Before anybody has time to stop him Buddy is greetin' her in his usual impetuous manner.
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