CHAPTER TWELVEParlour Games
Mr. Schenck arrived at a quarter past seven to find the Gamadges ready for him. Clara was radiant in a pink dress and a little fur-trimmed pink jacket. Schenck himself was as usual up to the minute, in tails so long that they made Gamadge’s look docked; but Gamadge’s had come from Savile Row some years before.
Schenck glowered at him while he explained the strategy of the evening.
“Going to drag your wife into it, are you?”
“I’m dying to look for a pistol,” said Clara.
“Like fun you are. When they catch you at it, I suppose this guy will explain that you’re a kleptomaniac.”
“I won’t get caught if you whistle.”
“Whistle! I may have to break somebody’s leg. This is some party you’ve got me invited to.”
Gamadge, holding Clara’s fur coat for her, said: “I do
