I went to Mrs. Collins, and she knew
nothing. I went to Mason's, and found him wondering who had
bilked his telephone. I suppose you did that. He had seen
this freight car of yours and put me on the track. But my God!
I never thought to see a woman of forty abducted by gypsies!"
Mifflin was about to speak but I waved him back.
"Now see here Andrew," I said, "you talk too, quickly. A
woman of forty (you exaggerate, by the way) who has compiled
an anthology of 6,000 loaves of bread and dedicated it to you
deserves some courtesy. When _you_ want to run off on some
vagabond tour or other you don't hesitate to do it. You
expect me to stay home and do the Lady Eglantine in the
poultry yard. By the ghost of Susan B. Anthony, I won't do
it! This is the first real holiday I've had in fifteen years,
and I'm going to suit myself."
Andrew's mouth opened, but I shook my fist so convincingly
that he halted.
"I bought this Parnassus from Mr. Mifflin fair and square for
four hundred dollars. That's the price of about thirteen
hundred dozen eggs," I said. (I had worked this out in my
head while Mifflin was talking about his book.)
"The money's mine, and I'm going to use it my own way.
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