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Ridiculous! He would do no such thing. He lit a cigar and began to open a few letters marked "private." For the life of him he could not understand one word that he read. A worried look crossed his face. "Suppose Zoie were really in need of help, Aggie would certainly never forgive him if he failed her." He rose and walked up and down. "Why was he not to tell Aggie?" "Where was Alfred?"
"Go away!" cried Zoie in disgust and she pushed Alfred from her and brushed the hateful lather from her little pink check. But Alfred was not to be robbed of his exaltation, and again he circled the room, making strange gurgling sounds to Baby. "Did a horrid old Jimmy take him away from fadder?" he said sympathetically, in the small person's ear; and he glanced at Jimmy with frowning disapproval.
"Break it to me?" gasped Alfred; a new light was beginning to dawn on his face. "So," concluded Zoie, now thoroughly at home in the new situation, "we asked Jimmy to take THAT one OUT." Jimmy cast an inscrutable glance in Zoie's direction. Was it possible that she was at last assisting him out of a difficulty? "You 'ASKED Jimmy'?" repeated Alfred.
"Yes, Aggie's feet are undoubtedly large," he concluded. But all this was not solving Zoie's immediate problem; and an impatient cough from her made him realise that something was expected of him. "Why did you lunch with me," he asked, with a touch of irritation, "if you thought he wouldn't like it?" "I was hungry," snapped Zoie.
"What makes some of them so much larger than others?" she asked, glancing at the babies he had CALLED "white." "Well, you see they're of different ages," explained the Superintendent indulgently. "We told Mr. Jinks they must all be of the same age," said Zoie with a reproachful look at Jimmy. "What age is that?" asked the Superintendent. "I should say a week old," said Aggie.
They were soon to "jump" more, for at this instant, Alfred, burning with anger at the indignity of having been locked in the bathroom, entered the room, demanding to know the whereabouts of the lunatic mother, who had dared to make him a captive in his own house. "Where is she?" he called to Zoie and Aggie, and his eye roved wildly about the room.
"She's got it twice as bad," groaned Jimmy, and he wondered what new form her persecution of him was about to take. "Where is the morning paper?" asked Aggie, excitedly. "We can't advertise NOW," protested Zoie. "It's too late for that." "Sh! Sh!" answered Aggie, as she snatched the paper quickly from the table and began running her eyes up and down its third page.
"I I don't believe I did," he stammered weakly. "I didn't think of it again." "Thank heaven for that!" concluded Zoie with tightly pressed lips. Then she knotted her small white brow in deep thought. Jimmy regarded her with growing uneasiness. "What are you up to now?" he asked. "I don't know yet," mused Zoie, "BUT YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TELL AGGIE that's ONE SURE thing."
"If you were to get one to-day," continued Aggie, "Alfred would know it wasn't yours, wouldn't he?" A light of understanding began to show on Zoie's small features. "There was none when he left this morning," added Aggie. "That's true," acquiesced Zoie. "You must wait awhile," counselled Aggie, "and then get a perfectly new one." But Zoie had never been taught to wait. "Now Aggie " she began.
And he nodded toward Aggie. Inflamed by her young friend's enthusiasm, Aggie rushed to her eagerly. "What is it, Zoie?" she asked. "The washerwoman!" exclaimed Zoie, as though the revelation had come straight from heaven. "SHE HAD TWINS," and with that, two pairs of eyes turned expectantly toward the only man in the room.
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