Could he? He'd go through the motions on a glass doorknob! Then it's me tilted back with my heels up and the suds artist decoratin' my map until it looks like a Polish weddin' cake. Don't it hit you foolish the first time, though? I felt like everybody in the shop, includin' the brush boy and the battery of lady manicures, was all gathered around pipin' me off as a raw beginner. So I stares haughty at the ceilin' and tries to put on a bored look. I'd been scraped twice over, and was just bein' unwrapped from the hot towel, when I turns to see who it is has camped down in the next chair, and finds Mr. Robert gazin' at me curious. "Why!" says he, chucklin'. "If it isn't Torchy! Indulging in a shave, eh?" "Oh, no, Sir," says I. "Been havin' my eye teeth tested for color blindness, that's all." Mr. Robert grins amiable and reaches out for the check. "This is on me then," says he. "I claim the privilege." As he comes in after luncheon he has to stop and grin again; and later on, when I answers the buzzer, he makes me turn clear around so he can inspect the effect and size up the new suit.4 4 "Excellent, Torchy!" says he. "Whoever your tailor may be, you do him credit." "This trip I paid cash, though," says I. "It's all right, is it?" "In every particular," says he. "Why, you look almost grown up. May I ask the occasion? Can it be that Miss Verona is on the point of returning from somewhere or other?" "Uh-huh," says I. "Bermuda. Got in yesterday." "And Aunty, I trust," goes on Mr. Robert, "is as well as usual?" "I'm hoping for the worst," says I; "but I expect she is." We swaps merry expressions again, and Mr. Robert pats me chummy on the shoulder. "You're quite all right, Torchy," says he, "and I wish you luck." Then the twinkle fades out of his eyes and he turns serious. "I wish," he goes on, "that I could do more than just—well, some time, perhaps." And with another friendly pat he swings around to his desk, where the letters are stacked a foot high. Say, he's the real thing, Mr. Robert is,
Prev.
Back
Top