"Yes, dear," he answered meekly, just like that.
Expectant silence from the four of us.
"Have you boys had dinner?" the lady asked.
"Certainly not," we cried, with an earnestness that gave the lie to
our statement, "no dinner!"
"None at all," added Tim thoughtfully.
The automobile drew up at a 14k. plate-glass house that fairly made
the "Spider" itch.
"Gosh," he whispered to me, looking at the porch, "that wouldn't be
hard for me."
During the dinner he kept sort of lifting and weighing the silver and
then looking at me and winking in an obvious manner.
"Not many people here to-night," said Tony from behind his plate.
"Why, there is the usual number," said the husband in surprise, "my
wife and myself live alone."
"Oh," said Tony, looking around at the tremendous dining hall, "I
thought this was a restaurant."
[Illustration: "'OH,' SAID TONY, 'I THOUGHT THIS WAS A RESTAURANT'"]
Tim started laughing then, and he hasn't stopped yet. He's so proud he
didn't make the mistake himself.
The "Spider" didn't open his mouth save for the purpose of eating. He
told me he was afraid his teeth would chatter.
_Aug. 20th._ Got a letter from Polly to-day.
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