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Pour the ale, Grief." At a later time, Purple Sanderson entered from the world. He hung up his hat and cast a look of proper financial dissatisfaction at the remnants of the feast. "Who has been " "Before you breathe, Purple, you graceless scum, let me tell you that we will stand no reference to the two violets here," said Pennoyer. "What the "
"For heaven's sake, Wrinkles, tackle that table! Don't sit there like a music box," said Pennoyer, grappling the eggs and starting for the gas stove. Later, as they sat around the board, Wrinkles said with satisfaction, "Well, the coffee's good, anyhow." "'Tis good," said Florinda, "but it isn't made right. I'll show you how, Penny. You first " "Oh, dry up, Splutter," said Grief.
"How many, Wrink?" "Four," replied Wrinkles, plaintively. "Gimme three," said Pennoyer. "Gimme one," said Sanderson. "Gimme three," said Hawker. When he picked up his hand again Florinda's chair was tilted perilously. She saw another seven added to the little pair. Sanderson's draw had not assisted him. "Same to the dealer," said Grief. "What you got, Wrink?"
Again brought face to face with this problem, and at the hour for dinner, Pennoyer and Grief thought profoundly. "Thunder and turf!" Grief finally announced as the result of his deliberations. "Well, if Billie Hawker was only home " began Pennoyer. "But he isn't," objected Wrinkles, "and that settles that." Grief and Pennoyer thought more.
On the left of Billie? Is that her, Wrink?" "What? Yes. Stop punching me! Yes, I tell you! That's her. Are you deaf?" In the evening Pennoyer conducted Florinda to the flat of many fire-escapes. After a period of silent tramping through the great golden avenue and the street that was being repaired, she said, "Penny, you are very good to me." "Why?" said Pennoyer. "Oh, because you are.
"Barbarians!" "Grief," said Pennoyer, "if a man loves a woman better than the whole universe, how much does he love the whole universe?" "Gawd knows," said Grief piously. "Although it ill befits me to answer your question." Wrinkles and Florinda came with the Welsh rarebits, very triumphant. "There," said Florinda, "soon as these are finished I must go home. It is after eleven o'clock.
"You are in this two-violet business?" "I don't know what they're talking about," replied Hawker. "Don't you, honestly?" asked Florinda. "Well, only a little." "There!" said Florinda, nodding again. "I knew he was in it." "He isn't in it at all," said Pennoyer and Grief.
Ultimately Grief said, "Oh, well, let's eat what we've got." The others at once agreed to this suggestion, as if it had been in their minds. Later there came a quick step in the passage and a confident little thunder upon the door. Wrinkles arranging the tin pail on the gas stove, Pennoyer engaged in slicing the bread, and Great Grief affixing the rubber tube to the gas stove, yelled, "Come in!"
While Grief marched to and fro threatening the furniture, Pennoyer and Wrinkles allowed their under jaws to fall, and remained as men smitten between the eyes by the god of calamity. "Singular thing!" muttered Pennoyer at last. "You get so frightfully hungry as soon as you learn that there are no more meals coming." "Oh, well " said Wrinkles. He took up his guitar.
Grief frowned deeper. Pennoyer was evidently searching his mind for a plan. Florinda took the cigarette from between her lips that she might grin with greater freedom. "We might throw Purple out," said Grief, with an inspired air. "That would stop all this discussion." "You!" said Sanderson furiously. "You can't keep serious a minute.
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