"Think I better spring
it on him now?" he enquired in doubt.
"My Gawd, no!" protested the lady in alarm. "I'd spoil the plant,
sure. I'd _love_ to watch you feed it to him, but Heaven knows I'd
never be able to hold in without bustin'."
"You think he'll swallow it, all right?"
"That simp?" cried Miss Prim in open derision. "Why, he'll eat it
_alive_!"
P. Sybarite walked into the front yard, and the chorus lady began to
crow with delight, welcoming him with wild wavings of a pretty,
powdered forearm.
"Well, _look_ who's here! 'Tis old George W. Postscript--as I live!
Hitherwards, little one: I wouldst speech myself to thee."
Smiling, P. Sybarite approached the pair. He liked Miss Prim for her
unaffected high spirits, and because he was never in the least ill at
ease with her.
"Well?" he asked pleasantly, blinking up at the lady from the foot of
the steps. "What is thy will, O Breaker of Hearts?"
"That'll be about all for yours," announced Violet reprovingly. "You
hadn't oughta carry on like that--at your age, too! Not that _I_
mind--I rather like it; but what'd your family say if they knew you
was stuck on an actress?"
"'Love blows as the wind blows,'" P. Sybarite quoted gently. "How
shall I hide the fact of my infatuation? If my family cast me off, so
be it!"
"I told you, behave! Next thing you know, George will be bitin' the
fence..
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