"Oh, he's the same Elmer," says she. "He's still foreman out at the
swamp."

"Comes over every Sunday night as usual, eh?" asks Warrie.

She nods. "Wednesdays now, too," says she.

"Then," says Warrie, "you and Elmer are to--er--"

"Ah reckon," says Valentina. "Sometime this spring."

"Well, well!" says Warrie. Then, as kind of an afterthought, he holds
out his hand. "My best wishes for you both," says he.

"Thanks," says Valentina, and gives him about half a smile. Next she
glances towards Gladys. "Say," she goes on, "is--is she the one?"

"Yes," says Warrie.

"Same to you," says Valentina. "Good-by."

They shook hands once more--sort of a long, lingerin' shake, with their
eyes steady to each other; and then--well, then I steers Valentina out
past the grinnin' cloak-room boys and stows her in the taxi. She
didn't have much to say on the way down. Nor I. And, take it from me,
it's some ride from the Tarleton down to Pier 9, East River.

First thing next morning Mr. Robert wants to know how the reunion
passed off, and he listens bug-eyed as I describes the way we rung in