"Do you like it?" Mark countered, his eyes dancing.
"Like it? It's simply sweet, of course! But whose is it?"
"Well, now listen," Mark explained. "It's Joe Kirk's furniture; he's
just been married, you know. He and his wife had just got back from
their honeymoon when Joe got an offer of a fine job in New York. He
asked me to see if I couldn't find a tenant for this--two years' lease
to run--just as it stands; no raise in rent. And the rent's fifty-five?"
he called to the woman in the next room.
"Fifty, Mr. Rosenthal," she answered impassively.
"Fifty!" Mark exulted. "Think of getting all this for fifty! Ah,
Julia"--he came close to her as she stood staring down from the window,
and lowered his voice--"will you, darling? Will you? You like it, don't
you? Will you marry me, dearest, and make a little home here with me?"
"Oh, Mark!" Julia stammered, a nervous smile twitching her lips.
"Well, why won't you, Ju? Do you doubt that I love you? Answer me that!"
"Why, no--no, I don't, of course." Julia moved a little away.
"Don't go over there; she'll hear us! And you love me, don't you, Ju?"
"But not that way I don't, Mark," Julia said childishly.
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