"Reason! I don't believe any of them have any reason." The Woman
of the World showed sign of being short of temper, a condition of
affairs startlingly unusual to her. "Says she hasn't enough work to
do."
"She must be an extraordinary woman," commented the Old Maid.
"The trouble I have put myself to in order to keep that woman, just
because George likes her savouries, no one would believe," continued
indignantly the Woman of the World. "We have had a dinner party
regularly once a week for the last six months, entirely for her
benefit. Now she wants me to give two. I won't do it!"
"If I could be of any service?" offered the Minor Poet. "My
digestion is not what it once was, but I could make up in quality--a
recherche little banquet twice a week, say on Wednesdays and
Saturdays, I would make a point of eating with you. If you think
that would content her!"
"It is really thoughtful of you," replied the Woman of the World,
"but I cannot permit it. Why should you be dragged from the simple
repast suitable to a poet merely to oblige my cook? It is not
reason."
"I was thinking rather of you," continued the Minor Poet.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93