my dear! I must not be late."

"On your head," said she.

She followed him to the hall, reminded him of his hat, his umbrella,
restored the notebook, and finally saw him off, his thin back, with its
scholarly stoop, disappearing down the street.

Bambina went back to the breakfast table, and took up the paper. She
read all the want "ads" headed "female."

"Nothing promising here," she said. "I wonder if I could bring myself to
teach little kids one, two, and one, two, three, in a select dancing
class? I'd loathe it."

A ponderous black woman appeared in the door and filled it.

"Is you froo?"

"Yes, go ahead, Ardelia."

"Hab the Perfessor gone already?"

"Yes, he's gone."

"Well, he suttinly did tell me to remin' him of suthin' this mohnin',
and I cain't des perzactly bemember what it was."

"Was it important?"