CHAPTER XVII

TORCHY GETS A THROUGH WIRE

First off, when I pipes the party in the pale green lid and the fuzzy
English topcoat, I thought it was some stray from the House of Lords;
but as it drifts nearer to the brass rail and I gets a glimpse of the
mild blue eyes behind the thick, shell-rimmed glasses, I discovers that
it's only Son-in-law Ferdy; you know, hubby to Marjorie Ellins that was.

"Wat ho!" says I. "Just in from Lunnon?"

"Why, no," says Ferdy, gawpin' foolish. "Whatever made you think that?"

"Then it's a disguise, is it?" says I, eyin' the costume critical.

"Oh, bother!" says Ferdy peevish. "I told Marjorie I should be stared
at. And I just despise being conspicuous, you know! Where's Robert?"

"Mr. Robert ain't due back for an hour yet," says I. "You could catch
him at the club, I expect."

"No, no," protests Ferdy hasty. "I--I wouldn't go to the club looking
like this. I--I couldn't stand the chaff I'd get from the fellows.
I'll wait."