“Yes, isn’t that fine?” chimed in his wife.

“I hope it’s a late model,” he went on, scratching his head.  “I hate those old-fashioned things!”

“I’ll be satisfied with any kind of a car,” laughed Fanny.

“So will I—­in a way,” he said.  “But I hate folks to think I’m not up to date.”  Turning to Virginia he added:  “If Robert’s ready we can go down together.  Is he?”

Shaking her head, she said quietly: 

“I don’t think so.”

He laughed loudly.

“I didn’t expect he would be after last night’s illumination!  He was ‘full’ all right—­circuited from tower to basement!  On the level, he was so lit up that if every light on his machine had gone out the cops couldn’t have said a word!”

“James!  Keep still!” whispered his wife, giving her sister a significant glance.

“Why?” he exclaimed surprised.  “Is there anything criminal in a man getting tanked up once in a while?”

Fanny colored with vexation.  Angrily she said:  “Take my advice—­don’t you ever try it!”

“And if I should,” he demanded defiantly, “what can you do about it?”

“The husband’s unanswerable question,” smiled Virginia sadly, “what can you do about it?”

“Sure!  What can you?” he repeated.

“I’ll tell you what I’d do,” cried Fanny, warming up.  “I’d leave you at once.”

Virginia started and looked thoughtfully at her sister, as if her words but echoed a determination that was in her own heart.

“Yes, you would!” he sneered.

“Yes, I would,” she cried hotly.  “I wouldn’t stand for any drunken husband.  I’d leave him so quick that—­that—­”

She stopped abruptly, realizing what her words meant to one very dear to her.  Virginia said nothing, but rising, walked to the other side of the room.

“That what?” demanded Jimmie.

“Nothing!” replied his wife crossly.

“You needn’t worry, anyway,” he continued, “I just can’t stand the stuff.  Give me three drinks and next morning my head’s full of Roman candles.  Huh!  Not for mine, thank you!”

“I’m glad of it,” said Fanny, with a sigh of relief.

Jimmie chuckled.  With a side glance at his sister-in-law he exclaimed in an undertone:  “Gee!  But I’d like to be here when he comes in.  I wonder what he’ll say.”

“He won’t remember anything about it.”

“Oh, that’s the kind, is it—­one of those convenient, witness stand, I-have-no-recollection things, eh!  Well, you take it from me, that’s the best kind to have.  You can agree to any old thing and not remember it, you can make all kinds of promises and then forget ’em.  You can—­Say!”

The young man suddenly gasped and turned pale.  Fanny, alarmed, started forward, thinking he was ill.

“What’s the matter?” she exclaimed, anxiously.

“Good Lord!” he cried, “suppose he should forget about my raise!”