Gee-gee sat down. She was so mad she had to do something. She wanted to slap Bob’s face, but she couldn’t do that. As Mrs. Ralston’s guest she couldn’t give way to her natural and primitive impulses. Her gown, modishly tight all over, strained almost to bursting point; it seemed to express the state of her feelings. A high-heeled shoe, encasing a pink-stockinged foot, agitated itself like a flag in a gale. “I like that,” she gasped. “And who are you to talk to me like that? Maybe you think this is a rehearsal.” “For argument’s sake, I’ll own I’m not much account just at present,” said Bob. “Be that as it may, I’m going to try to stop the mischief you are up to, if I can.” He didn’t know how he would stop it; he was talking more to draw Gee-gee out than for any other purpose. Bob’s own testimony, as to certain occurrences on that memorable roof-garden evening, wouldn’t amount to much. The lawyers could impeach it even if they let him (Bob) testify at all in those awful divorce cases that were pending. But they probably wouldn’t let him take the witness-stand if he was a prisoner. Bob didn’t know quite what was the law governing the admissibility of testimony in a case like his. Gee-gee shifted her mental attitude. She was getting her second breath and caution whispered to her to control herself. This handsome young gentleman had been the most indifferent member of the quartet on that inauspicious occasion on the roof; indeed, he had yawned in the midst of festivities. Bob, in love, cared not for show-girls or ponies. He had even tried to discourage Dan and the others in their zest for innocent enjoyment. Gee-gee now eyed Bob more critically. As a young-man-sure-of-himself, he had impressed her on that other occasion! Instinct had told her to avoid Bob and select Dan. Now that same instinct told her it might be better to temporize with this blunt-speaking young gentleman—to “sound” him. “You sure have got me floating,” observed Gee-gee in more lady-like accents. “I’m way up in the air. Throw out a few sand-bags and let’s hit the earth.” “That’s easy,” said Bob. “Do you deny you’re down here to raise Ned?” “Do I deny it?” remarked Gee-gee with flashing eyes. “Do I? We are down here to fill a little professional engagement. We are down here on account of our histrionic talents.” A sound came from Bob’s throat. Gee-gee professed not to notice it. “We are paid a fee—not a small one—to come down here, to do privately our little turn which was the hit of the piece and the talk of Broadway.”