Part 71 (2/2)

”Aw, come on, Lil--tell a fellow what's the matter, can't you? It ain't like you to be like this.”

”Nothin'!” she insisted.

”You gimme a swell turn there fer a minute. They're droppin' like flies to-day--hottest day in five summers.”

Silence.

”Whew!” He peeled off his coat and hung it, with his imitation Panama hat, behind the door; his pink s.h.i.+rt showed dark streaks of perspiration; and he tugged at the rear b.u.t.ton of his limp collar.

”Be-e-lieve me, the pianner business ain't what it's cracked up to be!

There ain't a picture house in town got the Gem beat when it comes to heat. Had to take off the Flyin' Papinta act to-day and run in an extry picture because two of the kids give out with the heat. I've played to over ten thousand feet o' films to-day; and be-e-lieve me, it was some stunt!”

He sluiced his face with cold water at the sink, and slush-slushed his head in a roller-towel, talking the while.

”I never seen the--extry picture--they--run in to cover the--Papinta act; and before I--could keep up--with the film--I was givin' ragtime fer a funeral. You oughta heard Joe squeal!” He laughed and threw his arms affectionately across his wife's shoulder. ”Eh--ragtime fer a funeral! Fine pianner-player you got fer a husband, honey!”

Given a checked suit, a slender bamboo cane, and a straw Katy slightly askew, Charley might have epitomized vaudeville. He had once won a silver watch-fob for pre-eminent buck-dancing at a Coney Island informal, and could sing ”Oh, You Great Big Beautiful Doll!” with nasal perfection.

”Yes, sirree, Lil; you got a fine pianner-player fer a husband!”

She squirmed away from his touch and carried the coffee-pot to the little set-for-two table. The chops steamed from a blue-and-white plate.

Her husband, unburdened with subtleties, straddled his chair and sc.r.a.ped up to the table; his collapsed collar, with two protruding ends of red necktie, lay on the window-sill; the sleeves of his pink s.h.i.+rt were rolled back to the elbow.

The meal opened in a silence broken only by the clat-clat of dishes and the wail of suffering babies.

”Poor kiddies, they ain't got a chance in a hundred. Gee! If I had the coin, wouldn't I give them a handout of fresh air and milk? I'd give every one of the durn little things a Delmonico banquet. I'd jest as soon get hit in the head as hear them kids bawl.”

Suddenly he glanced up from his plate and pushed himself from the table; his wife was making bread-crumbs out of her bread.

”Say, Lil, I ain't never seen you like this before! Ain't you feeling good? Come on--tell a feller what's the matter with you.”

He rose and came round to her chair, leaning over its back and taking her cheeks between thumb and forefinger.

”Come on, Lil; what's the matter? You ain't sore at me, are you?”

”Can't a girl get tired once in a while?” she said.

”Poor little p.u.s.s.y!” He patted her hair and returned to his place.

”Guess what I got!” groping significantly in the direction of his hip-pocket. ”Something you been havin' your heart set on fer a long time. Guess!”

”I dunno,” she said.

”Aw, gwan, kiddo! Give a guess.”

”I can't guess, Charley.”

<script>