"Hullo, Will; that you? What's the matter? You're late! Didn't he come?"
"Come!" groaned William. "Good Lord! Bertram--Billy's a GIRL!"
"A wh-what?"
"A girl."
"A GIRL!"
"Yes, yes! Don't stand there repeating what I say in that idiotic
fashion, Bertram. Do something--do something!"
"'Do something'!" gasped Bertram. "Great Scott, Will! If you want me to
do something, don't knock me silly with a blow like that. Now what did
you say?"
"I said that Billy is--a--girl. Can't you get that?" demanded William,
despairingly.
"Well, by Jove!" breathed Bertram.
"Come, come, think! What shall we do?"
"Why, bring her home, of course."
"Home--home!" chattered William. "Do you think we five men can bring up
a distractingly pretty eighteen-year-old girl with curly cheeks and pink
hair?"
"With wha-at?"
"No, no. I mean curly hair and pink cheeks. Bertram, do be sensible,"
begged the man. "This is serious!"
"Serious! I should say it was! Only fancy what Cy will say! A girl! Holy
smoke! Tote her along--I want to see her!"
"But I say we can't keep her there with us, Bertram. Don't you see we
can't?"
"Then take her to Kate's, or to--to one of those Young Women's Christian
Union things."
"No, no, I can't do that. That's impossible. Don't you understand? She's
expecting to go home with me--HOME! I'm her Uncle William.
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