Merle had been striving to tell her what she wished to know.

Later she would let him.
* * * * * Dave swaggered up the walk, a gay and gallant figure in his blue cutaway coat, his waistcoat of most legible plaid, fit ground for the watch chain of heavy golden links.

He wore a derby hat and a fuming calabash pipe, removing both for a courtly bow to the ladies.

His yellow hair had been plastered low on his brow, to be swept back each side of the part in a gracious curve; his thick yellow moustache curled jauntily upward, to show white teeth as he smiled.

At first glance he was smartly apparelled, but below the waist Dave always diminished rapidly in elegance.