It was a photograph of Joan.
"Well, you Jack-o'-Lantern," he said.

"It's better late than never, I suppose." Howard sent his straw hat spinning across the room.

It landed expertly in a chair.

"My dear chap, your note's been lying in my apartment for a week, snowed under my bills.

I drove back this morning, washed the bricks out of my eyes and came right around.