main object of the expedition being to swap a little friendly chatter
with Vee, and I find Auntie planted prominent and permanent in the
sittin'-room, why, I just grins and makes the best of it.

A patient and consistent sitter-out, Auntie is. And you know that face
of hers ain't exactly the chirky sort. Don't encourage you to get
chummy, or tip her the confidential wink, or chuck her under the chin.
Nothing like that--no.

Not a regular battle-ax, you understand. For all that, she ain't such
a bad-lookin' old dame, when you get her in a dim light. Though the
expression she generally favors me with, while it ain't so near assault
and battery as it used to be, wouldn't take the place of two lumps in a
cup of tea.

But you kind of get used to that acetic acid stuff after a while; and,
since I'm announced by a reg'lar name now--"Meestir Beel-lard" is
Helma's best stab at Ballard--and Auntie knowin' that I got a perfectly
good uncle behind me, besides bein' a private sec. myself, why, she
don't mean more'n half of it.

Besides, even with her sittin' right there in the room, there's a lot
doin' that she ain't in on. Trust Vee. Say, she can drum out
classical stuff on the piano and fire a snappy line of repartee at me
all the while, just loud enough for me to catch and no more, without
battin' an eye. Say, I'm gettin' quite a musical education, just
helpin' to stall off Auntie that way. And you should see the cute
schemes Vee puts over--settin' a framed photo so it throws the light in
the old girl's eyes, or shiftin' our chairs so she has to stretch her
neck to keep track of us.