You move on _quick_!" said the policeman vastly. "It's a
long walk down to the hoosegow and _I_ don't want to take you there."
"I don't want to go there," said Oliver. "But my hotel--"
"_Quit arguin'"_! said the policeman in a bark like a teased bulldog.
Oliver turned and walked two steps away. Then he turned again. After all
why not? The important part of his life was over anyhow--and before the
rest of it finished he might be able to tell one large policeman just what
he thought of him.
"Why, you big blue boob," he began abruptly with a sense of pleasant
refreshment better than drink, "You great heaving purple ice wagon--" and
then he was stopped abruptly for the policeman was taking the necessary
breath away.
XVII
About which time Nancy had finished crying--raging at herself all the
time, she hated to cry so--and was sitting up straight on the couch
looking at the door which Oliver had shut as if by looking it very hard
indeed she could make it turn into Oliver.
It _couldn't_ end this way. If it did it just meant that all the last year
wasn't real--hadn't any more part in reality than charity theatricals.
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