“I wish I could feel like that, old top,” I said, and I took another glance at a cable that had arrived half an hour ago from Aunt Agatha. I had been looking at it at intervals ever since.
“Ray and I got back to her flat this evening. Who do you think was there? The mater! She was sitting hand in hand with old Danby.”
“Yes?”
“He was sitting hand in hand with her.”
“Really?”
“They are going to be married.”
“Exactly.”
“Ray and I are going to be married.”
“I suppose so.”
“Bertie, old man, I feel immense. I look round me, and everything seems to be absolutely corking. The change in the mater is marvellous. She is twenty-five years younger. She and old Danby are talking of reviving ‘Fun in a Teashop,’ and going out on the road with it.”
I got up.
“Gussie, old top,” I said, “leave me for a while. I would be alone. I think I’ve got brain fever or something.”
“Sorry, old man; perhaps New York doesn’t agree with you. When do you expect to go back to England?”
I looked again at Aunt Agatha’s cable.
“With luck,” I said, “in about ten years.”