"My weight; beside the point----"

"Your weight is under a hundred and forty pounds, and it ought to be
over a hundred and sixty. Eat more. Avoid alcohol. Keep regular hours."

"Aunt Lora!"

"Well?"

"I wish to see my sister."

"You will have to wait. What did you wish to see her about?"

"That is a matter that concerns----No! I will tell you, for I believe
you to be responsible for the whole affair."

"Well?"

"Last night, quite by chance, I found out that Ruth has for some time
been paying visits to the studio of an artist."

Mrs. Porter nodded.

"Quite right. Mr. Kirk Winfield. She is going to marry him."

Bailey's hat fell to the floor. His stick followed. His mouth opened
widely. His glasses shot from his nose and danced madly at the end of
their string.