He made what lap he could
for the armful, and sat up in a stiff, strained attitude on the
edge of the couch. In the meantime, Alfred had strode into the
adjoining room with the air of a conqueror. Aggie looked at
Zoie, with dreadful foreboding.
"You don't suppose it could be?" she paused.
"My baby!" shrieked the voice of the Italian mother from the
adjoining room. "Where IS he?"
Regardless of the discomfort of his three disgruntled charges,
Jimmy began to circle the room. So agitated was his mind that he
could scarcely hear Aggie, who was reporting proceedings from her
place at the bedroom door.
"She's come up the fire-escape," cried Aggie; "she's beating
Alfred to death."
"What?" shrieked Zoie, making a flying leap from her coverlets.
"She's locking him in the bathroom," declared Aggie, and with
that she disappeared from the room, bent on rescue.
"My Alfred!" cried Zoie, tragically, and she started in pursuit
of Aggie.
"Wait a minute," called Jimmy, who had not yet been able to find
a satisfactory place in which to deposit his armful of clothes
and humanity. "What shall I do with these things?"
"Eat 'em," was Zoie's helpful retort, as the trailing end of her
negligee disappeared from the room.
CHAPTER XXIX
Now, had Jimmy been less perturbed during the latter part of this
commotion, he might have heard the bell of the outside door,
which had been ringing violently for some minutes.
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