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"But Mr. Geoffrey," she enquired suddenly, "if you hate Mulligan's as
much as I do, whatever made you choose to live here?"
"A thrice blessed fate," he answered, "I came because--er--"
"You were a poor, lonely guy," added Spike hastily.
"Precisely, Spike! Compared to my sordid poverty Lazarus was rich, and
as for the loneliness of my existence the--er--abomination of desolation
was a flowery garden!"
"And how did you happen to meet Ar--"
A plate crashed to pieces on the floor, and turning, she beheld Spike
very red and rueful of visage.
"'Fraid I've bent a plate, Hermy," he explained, and winking desperately
at Ravenslee, he stooped to gather up the fragments.
"Oh, Arthur, and we have so few--"
"Yes, I know--but it's only the old cracked one, Hermy."
"You've broken an awful lot of things lately, boy dear," she sighed.
"Never mind--get on with your supper, dear."
"Oh, I'm all right, but what about you? Gee, Hermy, you sure do talk!"
"Do I, dear?"
"Well, I guess! You keep on at poor old Geoff so he don't get a chance
for a real proper chew.


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