"Spoken like a true southern gentleman, though I don't think in the old
days that bathrooms would have crept into a compliment paid to a lady.
Now I did have some lemonade--if you will excuse me," and she was gone
into the house.
Ricky smiled. "I like our tenant," she said softly.
"You don't expect me to disagree with that, do you?" her brother had
just time enough to ask before their hostess appeared again complete
with tray, glasses, and a filled pitcher which gave forth the refreshing
sound of clinking ice. And after her paraded an old friend of theirs,
tail proudly erect. "There's our cat!" cried Ricky.
Val snapped his fingers. "Here, Satan."
After staring round-eyed at both of them, the cat crossed casually to
the settee and proceeded to sharpen his claws.
"Well, I like that! After I shared my bed with the brute, even though I
didn't know it until the next morning," Val exploded.
"Why, where did you meet Cinders?" asked Miss Biglow as she put down the
tray.
"He came to us the first night we were at Pirate's Haven," explained
Ricky. "I thought he was a ghost or something when he scratched at the
back door."
"So that's where he was. He used to go over to the Harrisons' for meals
a lot. When I'm working I don't keep very regular hours and he doesn't
like to be neglected. Come here, Cinders, and make your manners."
Replying to her invitation with an insolent flirt of his tail, Cinders,
whom Val continued obstinately to regard as "Satan," disappeared around
the corner of the balcony.
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