manuscript of “Success” to the stenographer, with strict orders as to a time limit; she led Jarvis, protesting, to a tailor’s, to order a suit of clothes; she restocked him in collars, shirts, and ties. In fact, she handled the situation like a diplomat, buying the railroad tickets with a thrill of anticipation.
Jarvis made no protest at all, until the night before they were to start. He came to her and offered her a little black notebook.
“What is this?”
“I want you to put down every cent we spend. This is a loan, you understand.”
“It’s a gift from the gods. Go offer libations. I don’t want your old debit and credit book.”
He laid his hand on her shoulder, and looked into her shining eyes.
“Good little fairy,” he said, “I want to put some gold dust in the pot, too.”
“Wait until we get to the end of the rainbow.”
“Just keep a record for me. My mind is such a sieve,” he said, offering the spurned black book.
“All right. Give me the Black Maria. I will ride your figures in it.”
“That was a pun. You ought to be spanked.”
“Oh, Jarvis, isn’t it fun?” she cried to him.
