and he hasn't been at all kind to his father. He's done—things—"
"But you don't know him!" I interrupted. "He's splendid!"
"I don't want to know him," Margery persisted. "He's a very—"
I could let this thing go no further. Here was another woman who must be drowned out. I raised my voice, therefore, and almost shouted—
"Well, you've got to know him! He's coming home tomorrow night. At seven. He wants his bed got ready. So there."
Margery sat down. She got quite red.
"Why didn't you tell me this before?" she demanded.
"'Cos I was breaking it to you gently, like they do accidents," I answered calmly.
Suddenly Margery began to laugh hysterically. She pressed her palms against her cheeks and laughed and laughed. Then she said:—
"John, you're a most extraordinary boy."
I thought so too, but I said, modestly—"Oh, well. Somebody had to do it." Then, in the flush of my triumph I remembered Mrs. Handsomebody. "But, oh, I say, I must be going! And—please—would it matter much if we were here to see him come home? We'd be very quiet."
[178]
