He will want everything greasy.
Oh, you're going to have a sweet time with that big stiff.'
"I shook my fist at him. 'He will not!' I cried. 'Don't you dare make
fun of my husband. He--he--' Then I stopped and laughed. 'Isn't it
funny how women always rush to defend their husbands when outsiders
speak against them? We may get cross at them ourselves, but no one
else shall ridicule them.'
"'Yes, you are one loving little wife all right. You sure are. You
won't let any one say a mean word against your sweet little
snookie-ookums. Oh, no. Wait till you get to darning his socks, you
won't be so crazy about him then.'
"'I do get a little cross when I darn his socks,' I confessed. 'I
don't mind embroidering monograms on his silk shirts, but I can't say
that so far I really enjoy darning his socks. Still, since they are
his, it is not quite so bad. I wouldn't darn anybody else's, not even
my own.'
"'Are you doing it already?' Dan gasped. He found it very hard to keep
me and my husband straight in his mind.
"'I am just pretending. I practise on father's. I want to be a very
efficient darner, so my patches won't make his poor dear feet sore.'
"'Lord help us,' cried Dan, springing to his feet and flinging himself
through the hedge and slamming the door until it shook the house.
Pages:
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211