13

I rubbed my chin. This was something I had been wondering about. Constance had figured, with me, that I might be safe for a year without investigation but it seemed her mo- ther had ideas of her own and as I thought it over, the dis- guise of a woman might prolong it very much longer. My safety, that is, the idea of getting away with it was, however, al- most too ridiculous to consider. I told my mother-in-law this after I had donned the costume and stood shakily before her on two-inch heels. She put her hands on her scrawny hips and surveyed me.

"It's true you're no beauty", she adjudged, "but neither was Hilda." She was coarser and stockier than you, if anything. Yet you two look quite a bit alike. Next time we'll pad your brassiere a lot more and with a bandanna wrapped around your head you'll be a dead ringer for Hilda." She

gave me a tray of food and told me to take it upstairs and give it to my father-in-law who was in bed. He was lying, ces drawn up and shoulders hunched and through an opening in his paja- mas his flesh showed white and fat. He was dressed like a Chinese Mandarin and greeted me with a smile that seemed sincere. He gave the appearance of one who could afford to spend a few days in bed and I found out later that he had left his business in good hands. Just then the phone down- stairs rang and Mrs. Vickers' shrill voice carried up to us, plainly and audibly. Old Vickers gave no indication that he heard anything; his face was a mask of inscrutability but I knew he was hearing every word. I was curious to see how he reacted to what she was saying, trying to determine by his face what he thought of his wife. Before I was aware of it, I found myself saying -

"How do you stand it?"

He looked blankly at me and I said, "Just listen to her". He looked somewhat relieved.

You yourself

All women

"Oh, you mean the telephone? I don't pay any attention to her at all. All women are excessive talkers. probably chatter without knowing about it too. are chatterboxes",