"Not to me!" amended the other.
"They may be, when you find your millionaire out!" was Maura Lambert's none too sympathetic reply.
"Aw, don't knock me only life-buoy!" There was a moment of silence. "An' if I wet-nurse those plates, do I get that phoney paper about me family-tree?"
"How soon do you want it?"
"The sooner, the better, dearie!"
"Then when you hand these plates back to me in three days' time, I'll do what I can for you about the family papers!"
"An' I want a couple of mash-notes jus' to show the old geezer he ain't the only pebble! An' I'll stow that hardware where a truffle-hound couldn't nose it out!"
There was still another period of silence.
"They'll go in your muff, you see," said the other more carefully modulated voice, "and no one will be any the wiser!"
"Sure," was the abstracted reply. Then came a vague movement or two about the room, and the same voice speaking again. "There's me house number, an' me phone, if anything turns up. But be sure to ask for Francine, dearie, Francine Florette."
