orld, and I can hardly afford to keep her! But I
couldn't drive her away if I tried."

Course, with our havin' Professor and Madame Battou, the old French
couple we'd annexed over a year ago in town, we had no kick comin'. Not
even the sugar and flour shortage seemed to trouble them, and our fancy
meals continued regular as clock work. But on the way home Vee and I got
to talkin' about what hard times the neighbors was havin'.

"I guess what they need out here," says I, "is one of them army
kitchens, that would roll around two or three times a day deliverin' hot
nourishment from door to door."

And I'd hardly finished what I'd meant for a playful little remark
before Vee stops sudden, right in the middle of the road, and lets out
an excited squeal.

"Torchy!" says she. "Why on earth didn't you suggest that before!"

"Because this foolish streak has just hit me," says I.

"But it's the very thing," says she, clappin' her hands.

"Eh?" says I, gawpin'.

"For Marion," says she. "Don't you see?"

"But she's no perambulatin' rotisserie, is she?" says I.

"She might be," says Vee. "And she shall."

"Oh, very well," says I. "If you've decided it that way, I expect she
will. But I don't quite get you."

When Vee first connects with one of her bright ideas, though, she's apt
to be a little puzzlin' in her remarks about it. As a matter of fact,
her scheme is a bit hazy, but she's sure it's a winner.

"Listen, Torchy," says she. "Here are all these Harbor Hills
people--perhaps a hundred families--many of them with poor cooks, some
with none at all. And there is Marion with that perfectly splendid old
Martha of hers, who could cook for all of them."

"Oh, I see," says I. "Marion hangs out a table-board sign?"

"Stupid!" says Vee. "She does nothing of the sort. People don't want to
go out for their meals; they want to eat at home. Well, Marion brings
them their meals, all deliciously cooked, all hot, and ready to serve."

"With the kitchen range loaded on a truck and Martha passin' out soup
and roasts over the tailboard, eh?" says I.

But once more I've missed. No, the plan is to get a lot of them army
containers, such as they send hot chow up to the front trenches in; have
'em filled by Martha at home, and delivered by Marion to her customers.

"It might work," says I. "It would need some capital, though. She'd have
to invest in a lot of containers, and she'd need a motor truck."

"I will buy those," says Vee.