Part 23 (1/2)

Zoie regarded Jimmy as though he were beyond redemption. ”Can't you ever think of anybody but yourself?” she asked, with a martyred air.

Had Jimmy been half his age, Aggie would have felt sure that she saw him make a face at her friend for answer. As it was, she resolved to make one last effort to awaken her un.o.bliging spouse to a belated sense of duty.

”You see, dear,” she said, ”you might better get the washerwoman's baby than to go from house to house for one,” and she glanced again toward the paper.

”Yes,” urged Zoie, ”and that's just what you'll HAVE to do, if you don't get this one.”

Jimmy's head hung dejectedly. It was apparent that his courage was slipping from him. Aggie was quick to realise her opportunity, and before Jimmy could protect himself from her treacherous wiles, she had slipped one arm coyly about his neck.

”Now, Jimmy,” she pleaded as she pressed her soft cheek to his throbbing temple, and toyed with the bay curl on his perspiring forehead, ”wont you do this little teeny-weepy thing just for me?”

Jimmy's lips puckered in a pout; he began to blink nervously. Aggie slipped her other arm about his neck.

”You know,” she continued with a baby whine, ”I got Zoie into this, and I've just got to get her out of it. You're not going to desert me, are you, Jimmy? You WILL help me, won't you, dear?” Her breath was on Jimmy's cheek; he could feel her lips stealing closer to his. He had not been treated to much affection of late. His head drooped lower--he began to twiddle the fob on his watch chain. ”Won't you?” persisted Aggie.

Jimmy studied the toes of his boots.

”Won't you?” she repeated, and her soft eyelashes just brushed the tip of his retrousee nose.

Jimmy's head was now wagging from side to side.

”Won't you?” she entreated a fourth time, and she kissed him full on the lips.

With a resigned sigh, Jimmy rose mechanically from the heap of crushed laundry and held out his fat chubby hand.

”Give me the letter,” he groaned.

”Here you are,” said Zoie, taking Jimmy's acquiescence as a matter of course; and she thrust the letter into the pocket of Jimmy's ulster.

”Now, when you get back with the baby,” she continued, ”don't come in all of a sudden; just wait outside and whistle. You CAN WHISTLE, can't you?” she asked with a doubtful air.

For answer, Jimmy placed two fingers between his lips and produced a shrill whistle that made both Zoie and Aggie glance nervously toward Alfred's bedroom door.

”Yes, you can WHISTLE,” admitted Zoie, then she continued her directions. ”If Alfred is not in the room, I'll raise the shade and you can come right up.”

”And if he is in the room?” asked Jimmy with a fine shade of sarcasm.

”If he IS in the room,” explained Zoie, ”you must wait outside until I can get rid of him.”

Jimmy turned his eyes toward Aggie to ask if it were possible that she still approved of Zoie's inhuman plan. For answer Aggie stroked his coat collar fondly.

”We'll give you the signal the moment the coast is clear,” she said, then she hurriedly b.u.t.toned Jimmy's large ulster and wound a m.u.f.fler about his neck. ”There now, dear, do go, you're all b.u.t.toned up,” and with that she urged him toward the door.

”Just a minute,” protested Jimmy, as he paused on the threshold. ”Let me get this right, if the shade is up, I stay down.”

”Not at all,” corrected Aggie and Zoie in a breath. ”If the shade is up, you come up.”

Jimmy cast another martyred look in Zoie's direction.

”You won't hurry will you?” he said, ”you know it is only twenty-three below zero and I haven't had anything to eat yet--and----”

”Yes, we know,” interrupted the two women in chorus, and then Aggie added wearily, ”go on, Jimmy; don't be funny.”