Now, I was working at that time on the _Chronicle_. I
wrote a skit on those poems for the Sunday paper. Do you begin to
follow the plot?"
"She's got it in for you? She's sore?"
"Exactly. Get that firmly fixed in your mind, because it's the
source from which all the rest of the story springs."
Mr. Crocker interrupted.
"But I don't understand. You say she's sore at you. Well, how is
it that you came in together looking as if you were good friends
when I let you in this morning?"
"I was waiting for you to ask that. The explanation is that she
doesn't know that I am Jimmy Crocker."
"But you came here saying that you were Jimmy Crocker."
"Quite right. And that is where the plot thickens. I made Ann's
acquaintance first in London and then on the boat. I had found
out that Jimmy Crocker was the man she hated most in the world,
so I took another name. I called myself Bayliss."
"Bayliss!"
"I had to think of something quick, because the clerk at the
shipping office was waiting to fill in my ticket. I had just been
talking to Bayliss on the phone and his was the only name that
came into my mind. You know how it is when you try to think of a
name suddenly. Now mark the sequel. Old Bayliss came to see me
off at Paddington. Ann was there and saw me. She said 'Good
evening, Mr. Bayliss' or something, and naturally old Bayliss
replied 'What ho!' or words to that effect. The only way to
handle the situation was to introduce him as my father.
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