Some Buried Caesar

'Stop! Stop and take a breath. Weddings are out. They're barbaric vestiges of… of barbarism. I doubt if I'd go to my own.'

'You might. You may. For a string of cellophane pearls I'd marry you myself. But this wedding will be amusing. Old Pratt and old Osgood will be there and you can see them shake hands. Then you can have cocktails and dinner with me.'

'My pulse remains steady.'

'Kiss me.'

'Still steady.'

'I'll buy you some marbles and an airgun and roller skates…'

'No. Are you going to ring off now?'

'No. I haven't seen you for a century.'

'Okay. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'm going to the Strand tomorrow evening at 9 o'clock to watch Greenleaf and Bald- win play pool. You can come along if you'll promise to sit quietly and not chew gum.' 'I wouldn't know a pool from a pikestaff. But all right. You can come here for dinner-'

'Nope. I'll eat at home with my employer. I'll meet you in the lobby 'of the Churchill at 8:45.'

'My God, these public assignations-'

'I am perfectly willing to be seen with you in public.'

'8:45 tomorrow.'

'Right.'

I replaced the instrument and turned to my typewriter. Wolfe's voice came:

'Archie.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Get the dictionary and look up the meaning of the word 'spiritual.''

I merely ignored it and started on paragraph 16 of the report.

THE END

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