"Oh, j-just downstairs--somewhere."
"I'll LOOK j-just downstairs somewhere," decided Alfred, and he
snatched up his hat and started toward the door.
"Alfred!" cried Zoie in alarm.
Coming back to her bedside to reassure her, Alfred was caught in
a frantic embrace. "I'll be back in a minute, dear," he said,
but Zoie clung to him and pleaded desperately.
"You aren't going to leave me the very first thing?"
Alfred hesitated. He had no wish to be cruel to Zoie, but the
thought of Jimmy out in the street with his baby at this hour of
the night was not to be borne.
Zoie renewed her efforts at persuasion. "Now, dearie," she said,
"I wish you'd go get shaved and wash up a bit. I don't wish baby
to see you looking so horrid."
"Yes, do, Alfred," insisted Aggie. "He's sure to be here in a
minute."
"My boy won't care HOW his father looks," declared Alfred
proudly, and Zoie told Aggie afterward that his chest had
momentarily expanded three inches.
"But _I_ care," persisted Zoie. "First impressions are so
important."
"Now, Zoie," cautioned Aggie, as she crossed toward the bed with
affected solicitude. "You mustn't excite yourself."
Zoie was quick to understand the suggested change in her tactics,
and again she sank back on her pillows apparently ill and faint.
Utterly vanquished by the dire result of his apparently inhuman
thoughtlessness, Alfred glanced at Aggie, uncertain as to how to
repair the injury.
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