And Johnny Drake asked her to play anagrams with him, in
between trips to the nursery. Johnny has a perfect pash for anagrams,
and is a wow at 'em. So Tracey got the box of anagrams out of the trophy
room--"
"The trophy room?" Dundee repeated, amused.
"That's what Tracey calls it," Penny explained impatiently, "because he
has a couple of golf cups and Flora has an immense silver atrocity which
testifies to the fact that she was the 'lady's tennis champion' of the
state for one year. There are also some mounted fish and some deer heads
with incredible antlers, but the room is really used as a catch-all for
all the sports things--racquets, golf clubs, skis, ping-pong table,
etc.... Anyway, Tracey brought out the box of anagrams, and we were all
having a pretty good time when, at half past eight, the butler announced
'_Mr. Dexter Sprague_'!"
"Your tone makes me wish I'd been there," Dundee acknowledged. "What
happened?"
"You know how slap-em-on-the-back Tracey always is?" Penny asked,
grinning. "Well, you should have seen him and heard him as he dismissed
poor Whitson--the butler--as if he were giving him notice, instead of
letting him off for the night! And the icy dignity with which he greeted
poor Sprague--"
"_Poor_ Sprague?" Dundee echoed.
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