I'm an up-to-date girl, I am. There's not a girl
living would be willing to marry a well-off fellow like you and go huck
herself in a place she couldn't even have the running of herself or have
her own say-so about the purse-strings. It may sound unbecoming, but
when I marry I'm going to better myself, I am."
"I--why--"
"If she can't even stand for her own son-in-law walking into his own
kitchen in his own house--Oh, you don't find me starting my married
life that way at this late date. I haven't held off five years
for that."
Mr. Lipkind pushed back his but slightly tasted food, lines of strain
and a certain whiteness out in his face. "It--it just seems awful,
Clara, this going around in a circle and not getting anywheres."
"I'm at the end of my rope, I am."
"I see your point in a way, Clara, but, my God! a man's mother is his
mother! It's eating up my life just as it's eating yours, but what you
going to do about it? It just seems the best years of our life are
going, waiting for God knows what."
Hands clasped until her finger-nails whitened, Miss Bloom leaned across
the table, her voice careful and concentrated. "Now you said something!
That's why you and me are here alone together to-night.
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