“I’m dry as ——.”
“So’m I, Bedrock,” says he, loud like. “Thish ain’t no fun. Let’s me and
you and Homely go up to my room and wet our necks. Come on, Homely, you
old rootin’ tooter.”
Frankie led the procession up them winding stairs. I looks down from the
top, and notices that a lot of them folks ain’t got their mouths shut
yet. The duke is being drenched with a glass of punch, and seems on the
road to recovery.
“Pinky,” says I, “you ain’t going to let Marion marry the duke, are
you?”
“Shush,” says Pinky, shaking up a bottle; “my wife’s doing it. I ain’t
nothing but a crawling worm in thish house. Wife’s crazy over titles.
Crazy over everything but me, and I’m glad she draws the line some
place. Feel shorry for Marion, but I feel more shorry for me. Have to do
everything I don’ want to do—except tonight. Man or moush? Which’re you
goin’ to be? Man’r moush? Going ri’ down and tell that bunch that I’m a
wolf and it’s my evening to bark.”
“No, you’re not, either,” says Frankie from the doorway. “For Heaven’s
sake, Van Veen, have a little sense.” Then he turns to me: “Have you
seen Mag—er—Whispering tonight?”
“Nope. Is he coming here?”
“Said he was,” says Frankie, and just then Pinky sighs deep like and
rolls over on the bed.
Homely inhales another pint, and lays down with Pinky.
“Ike,” says Frankie, “let’s you and I go down and wait for Magpie.”
“You go first,” says I, “I’ll be out in a minute.”
I searched Homely for a gun, but didn’t find one. You never can tell
what he might do—loaded thataway. I went out of the door, and got almost
to the top of the stairs, when I hears Marion and Frankie talking low.
“Marion, for God’s sake, don’t throw yourself away on that fellow,”
pleads Frankie. “Wake up, girl. Everybody, except your aunt is laughing
at you. Your new uncle is dead against it. Why, Marion, the duke hasn’t
a cent, and he’s a mighty poor specimen of humanity. You’ll have to
agree to that.”
“Franklyn,” says she, sort of sobbing like, “it’s all settled, and it
must go through.”
“Has Whispering White met the duke yet?” asks Frankie.
“No. He will meet him tomorrow. Excuse me, I must go back to my guests.”
And I hears her go down the stairs.