The court says I
gotta give her a home, and that's why I want a little queen like you in
it. Gad! Won't her mother throw a red-headed fit when she sees the
little queen I picked! Gad!"
"Oh, Jerry, her your first wife and all! Won't it seem funny my going in
her house and--and living with her kid."
"Funny nothing. Cloonan won't think it's funny when I tell her she's
finished running my house for me. Funny nothing. To-morrow's Sunday and
I'm going to take you out in the afternoon and show you the place, and
Monday, instead of going to your bargain bin, we're going down for a
license, and you kiss the old hag good-by for me, too. Eh, how's that
for one day's work?"
"Gee! and--and--Monday the spring opening and me not there! Jerry, I--I
can't get over me being a lady in my own house. Me! Me that hates
ugliness and ugly clothes and ugly living so. Me that hates street-cars
and always even hated boat excursions 'cause they was poor folks'
pleasures. Me a lady in my own house. Oh, Jerry!"
She quivered in his arms and he kissed her again with his moist lips
pressed flat against hers.
"Ten rooms, Peachy--that's the way I do things."
They were curving up a gravel way, and through the lacy foliage of
spring lights gleamed, and there came the remoter strains of
syncopated music.
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