again?"

Marion pinks up more'n ever. And, say, with them shy brown eyes of hers,
and all the curves, she ain't so hard to look at. "Yes," admits Marion.
"You see, I had promised to give him a final answer tonight."

"But surely, Marion," says Vee, "you'd never in the world tell him that
you----"

"I don't know," breaks in Marion, her voice trembly. "There seems to be
nothing else."

"Isn't there, though!" says Vee. "Just you wait until you hear."

And with that she plunges into a rapid outline sketch of this dinner
dispensary stunt, quotin' facts and figures and givin' a profit estimate
that sounded more or less generous to me.

"So you see," she goes on enthusiastic, "you could keep your home, and
you could keep Martha, and you would be doing something perfectly
splendid for the whole community. Besides, you would be entirely
independent of--of everyone."

"But do you think I could do it?" asks Marion.

"I know you could," says Vee. "Anyway, we could between us. I will
furnish the capital, and keep the accounts and help you plan the daily
menus. You will do the marketing and delivering. Martha will do the
cooking. And there you are! We may have to start with only a few family
orders at first, but others will come in fast. You'll see."

By that time Marion was catching the fever. Her eyes brighten and her
chin comes up.

"I believe we could do it," says she.

"And you're willing to try?" asks Vee.

Marion nods.

"Then," says Vee, "Mr. Biggles ought to be told that he needn't wait
around any longer."

"Oh, I don't see how I can," wails Marion. "He--he's such a----"

"A sticker, eh? I know," says Vee. "And it's a shame that he should have
another chance to bother you. Torchy, don't you suppose you could do it
for her?"

"What?" says I. "Break it to Biggles? Why, I could do it swell. Leave it
to me. I'll shunt him on the siding so quick he won't know he's ever
been on the main track."

I don't waste any diplomatic language doin' it, either. On my way in
where he's waiting I passes through the hall and gathers up his new
derby and yellow gloves, holdin' 'em behind me as I breaks in on him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Biggles," says I, "but it's all off."

"I--I beg pardon?" says he, gazin' at me fish-eyed and stupid.

"Ah, let's not run around in circles," says I. "Miss Gray presents her
compliments, and all that sort of stuff, but she's goin' into another
line. If you must know, she's going to bust up the c