. The Saturday evening post. f when I turned up atEuston a day or two before Christmas with the prospectof the guvnor returning from the Near East, of Gerry onthe spot, and a brand-new motor bike thrown in. Betweenthe three I reckoned to have a pretty gay old Christmas. I was rather surprised that Gerry wasnt at the stationto meet me, and more surprised still when I nipped intothe flat to find her in the drawing-room looking white andserious. Good heavens, you do look rotten! I grinned, but it wasnt one of her real all right, she answered. You arent, or youd have been at the
. The Saturday evening post. f when I turned up atEuston a day or two before Christmas with the prospectof the guvnor returning from the Near East, of Gerry onthe spot, and a brand-new motor bike thrown in. Betweenthe three I reckoned to have a pretty gay old Christmas. I was rather surprised that Gerry wasnt at the stationto meet me, and more surprised still when I nipped intothe flat to find her in the drawing-room looking white andserious. Good heavens, you do look rotten! I grinned, but it wasnt one of her real all right, she answered. You arent, or youd have been at the station to meetme. Look here, stick on your hat and Ill take you out tolunch. Ive heaps of boodle. Lucky you! she answered. Wish I could say thesame. But lunch is ordered here. Oh, thatll keep. She tipped up the end of her nose with a forefinger, butnot very convincingly. I dont think I want to go out, she said. Then well have a merry old lunch at home, I said,and flopped down on the sofa by her side. (Continued on Page 154). / Say, Gerry, What* Up? I Demanded. You Keep Saving Things I Dont Get the Hang Of IS THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920
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