“Oh, their subtlety, I suppose. They look and act so aimless, and they are going somewhere all the time. They are lazy and useful and—wet. I like them.”
“Is there anything in the universe you don’t like?” Jarvis inquired.
“Yes, but I can’t think what it is just now,” she answered, and sang “Ships of mine are floating—will they all come home?” so zestfully that an old gentleman in the front seat turned, with a smiling “I hope so, my dear!”
She nodded back at him gayly, to Jarvis’s annoyance. As they approached Grant’s Tomb, she glanced at him suspiciously. When they got safely by, she sighed with content.
“If you had said anything bromidic about Grant’s Tomb, Jarvis Jocelyn, I should have thrown myself off the top of the stage to certain death.”
“At times you underestimate me,” he replied.
At Claremont, Bambi ordered a most enticing repast, and they were very gay. Everybody seemed gay, too. The sun shone, the early spring air was soft, and a certain gala “stolen sweets” air of Claremont made it seem their most intimate meal.
Everybody smiled at Bambi and she smiled back.
