Around the World With Auntie Mame by Patrick Dennis Read Free Book Online Page B

drunk,” Vera snapped, “obviously drunk. Just who else do you think could replace
me
, you dirty old man?”
    â€œOhhhh,” Mr. Babcock groaned. “If I was . . . if I was not myself this evening, it’s because
you
, Mame Dennis Burnside, put something in my grape juice.”
    â€œNonsense,” Vera said harshly. “He was stinking. I smelled his breath myself when he dragged me off . . .”
    â€œDrugged,” Mr. Babcock said weakly, any conviction he may ever have had deserting him.
    â€œLa, Mr. Babcock,” Auntie Mame said, waggling a coquettish finger through the wicket, “the days of the Borgias are long since dead. But, alas, the days of rapine, lust, and bestiality, I fear, are still with us—and in some very surprising circles. Can you think that I, a poor, lone widow, would have taken an innocent youth to a carnal display such as the one you attended—and all too conspicuously—this evening?”
    â€œGee, Mr. Babcock,” I piped up, “Auntie Mame and I were even thinking of driving out to Neuilly for some real home-style peanut butter and those keen lantern slides.”
    â€œIndeed we were,” Auntie Mame added, “and I have been heartsick at the prospect of having to tell poor Eunice of the disgrace brought upon her and her son—yes, and that peach of a couple, the Gilbreaths—by your conduct . . .”
    Mr. Babcock’s hysterical gibbering drowned out the rest of her message. Auntie Mame waited sadistically for his sobs to be stilled before she went on.
    â€œBut if you are not grateful, Mr. Babcock, for my willingness to stand staunchly behind your poor, deluded wife, you should at least thank me for begging Miss Charles to forgive you. And also,
not to press charges
.”
    â€œB-but . . .” Mr. Babcock stammered.
    â€œHappily,” Auntie Mame charged on, “Vera Charles is a true trouper with a heart of pure gold. What other woman would forgive you for mauling her, for disgracing her in public and for doing
this
”—dramatically Auntie Mame ripped the veil from Vera’s hat and pointed to her swollen, discolored jaw. Mr. Babcock choked. “For doing
this
, Mr. Babcock, to a face that has been dear to drama lovers for the last half-century.”
    Vera bridled, but there wasn’t much she could do.
    â€œI—I left you at the American Express this afternoon,” he said brokenly, “and I had this—this odd feeling. I stopped off in a—in some low saloon and ordered a drink of liquor and then—then . . . Well, everything went black. I . . .”
    â€œThat is indeed a sad story, Mr. Babcock,” Auntie Mame said, holding up a pious hand, “but a squalid tale and one which I should not like you to relate before my innocent young ward. It is bad enough that a man of your Jekyll and Hyde character completely controls this poor orphan’s inheritance, probably squandering his pitiable income on voices too vile to contemplate. So I will thank you to bear in mind that Patrick’s
spiritual
welfare remains in
my
hands and I should not like his young mind polluted by any accounting of your disgusting fall from . . .”
    â€œPlease, please,” Mr. Babcock said, a broken man. “I’ll do anything you say.”
    â€œAh, but there you are wrong, Mr. Babcock,” Auntie Mame said. “It is not
you
who are here to help
me
, but
I
who have come to this sinkhole of drunks and criminals to help
you
. Now tell me,” she said with honeyed venom, “wouldn’t you like me to telephone Mrs. Babcock? Eunice must be wondering what can have hap . . .”
    â€œOh, no!
Please
no!”
    â€œVery well then,” Auntie Mame said. “Vera is not only willing to forgive you, but also to pay your fine.
Aren’t
you, Vera?”
    Vera looked as though she’d been struck by lightning at the very suggestion of parting with so much as a