Rupert Ralestone of
Pirate's Haven!" Her voice grew louder and shriller until he did lay
down his reading matter and really looked at them for the first time.
"What do you want?"
"A little attention," answered Ricky sweetly. "We aren't Chinese, Arabs,
or Malays, but we are kind of nice to know, aren't we, Val? If you'd
only come out of your subconscious, or wherever you are most of the
time, you'd find that out without being told."
Rupert laughed and pushed away his letters. "Sorry. I picked up the bad
habit of reading at breakfast when I didn't have my table brightened by
your presence. I know," he became serious, "that I haven't been much of
a family man. But there are reasons--"
"Which, of course, you can not tell _us_," flashed Ricky.
His face lengthened ruefully. He pulled at his tie with an embarrassed
frown. "Not yet, anyway. I--" He fumbled with his napkin. "Oh, well, let
me see how it comes out first."
Ricky opened her eyes to their widest extent and leaned forward, every
inch of her expressing awe. "Rupert, don't tell me that you are an
_inventor_!" she cried.
"Now I know that we'll end in the poorhouse," Val observed.
Rupert had recovered his composure. "'I yam what I yam,'" he quoted.
"Very well. Keep it to yourself then," pouted Ricky. "We can have
secrets too."
"I don't doubt it." He glanced at Val. "Unfortunately you always tell
them.
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