“Should think you would. Good Lord--Paris! Why you lucky, lucky Indian!” says Ted affectionately. “When'll you leave?” “Don't know. He said cable him if I really decided--think I will. They need men and I can get a fair enough letter from Vanamee. I've been thinking it over ever since the letter came--wondering if I'd take it. Think I will now. Well.” “Well, I wish I was going along, Crowe.” And this time Oliver is really able to smile. “No, you don't.” “Oh well--but, honestly--well, no, I suppose I don't. And I suppose _that's_ something you know all about, too, you--private detective!” “Private detective! Why, you poor ass, if you haven't noticed how I've been playing godmother to you all the way through this house-party--” “I have. I suppose I'd thank anybody else. Coming from you, though, I can only say that such was both my hope and my expectation.” “Oh, you _perfect_ ass!” Both laugh, a little unsteadily. “Well, Ollie, what think?” says Ted, finding some difficulty with his words for some reason or other. “Think? Can't tell, my amorous child. Coldly considered, I think you've got a good show--and I'm very strong for it, needless to say--and if you don't go and put it over pretty soon I'll be intensely annoyed--one of the pleasures I've promised myself for years and years has been getting most disgracefully fried at your wedding, Ted.” “Well, tonight is going to be zero hour, I think.” Ted proceeds with a try at being flippant and Oliver cackles with mirth. “I knew it. I knew it. Old Uncle Ollie, the Young Proposer's Guide and Pocket Companion.” Then his voice changes. “Luck,” he says briefly. “Thanks. Need it.” “Of course I'm not worthy,” Ted begins diffidently but Oliver stops him. “They never are. I wasn't. But that doesn't make any difference. You've got to--_n'est-ce pas?_” “You old bum! Yes. But when I think of it---” “Don't” “But leaving out everything else--it seems so damned _cheeky!_ When Elinor's got everything, including all the money in the world, and I--” “We talked that over a long time ago, remember? And remember what we decided--that it didn't matter, in this year and world at least. Of course I'm assuming that you're really in love with her--” “I am,” from Ted very soberly. “Oh I am, all right.” “Well then, go ahead. And, Theodore, I shall watch your antic motions with the greatest sarcastic delight, both now and in the future--either way it breaks. Moreover I'll take anybody out of the action that you don't want around--and if there were anything else I could do--” “Got to win off my own service,” says Ted. “You know. But thanks all the same. Only when I think of--some incidents of Paris--and how awful near I've come to making a complete fool of myself with that Severance woman in the last month--well--” “Look here, Ted.” Oliver is really worried. “You're not going to let that--interfere--are you? Right now?”