"
"She isn't, eh?"
"No, she isn't. Can't you leave this affair to me?"
"I'm pretty hot under the collar," he warned her, and it was easy to
believe that he was.
"Don't rush in where angels fear to tread, Will dear," she pleaded.
It was so unusual for her to adopt a pleading tone that he overlooked
the implication. Besides he had just got through calling himself a
fool, so perhaps she was more or less justified. Moreover, at that
particular moment she undertook to assist him with his necktie. Her
soft, cool fingers touched his double chin and seemed to caress it
lovingly. He lifted his head very much as a dog does when he is being
tickled on that velvety spot under the lower jaw.
"Stuff and nonsense," he murmured throatily.
"I thought you would see it that way," she said so calmly that he
blinked a couple of times in sheer perplexity and then diminished his
double chin perceptibly by a very helpful screwing up of his lower
lip. He said nothing, preferring to let her think that the most
important thing in the world just then was the proper adjustment of
the wings of his necktie.
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