Jerry, generously.
"What is my name?" Tommy demanded.
She put her hands together again, beseechingly. "Please, please!" she
said. "I have such a dreadful memory for names, but--oh, please!"
"What am I?" he insisted.
"You are the--the man who invents those delightful thingumbobs," she
cried with an inspiration.
"I never invented anything, except two books," said Tommy, looking at
her reproachfully.
"I know them by heart," she cried.
"One of them is not published yet," he informed her.
"I am looking forward to it so excitedly," she said at once.
"And my name is Sandys," said he.
"Thomas Sandys," she said, correcting him triumphantly. "How is that
dear, darling little Agnes--Elspeth?"
"You have me at last," he admitted.
"'Sandys on Woman!'" exclaimed Mrs. Jerry, all rippling smiles once
more. "Can I ever forget it!"
"I shall never pretend to know anything about women again," Tommy
answered dolefully, but with a creditable absence of vindictiveness.
"Please, please!" said the little hands again.
"It is a nasty jar, Mrs. Jerry."
"Please!"
"Oh that I could forget so quickly!"
"Please!"
"I forgive you, if that is what you want."
She waved her whip.
Pages:
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376