The coffee was miraculously brought, and soon the griddle-cakes, gloriously
brown, and deftly turned by Mrs. Quinn, were in front of him.
"Gee! you make a feller happy, Mrs. Quinn!" said the appreciative "Red,"
sitting down, and getting busy, "Won't you come to Bisbee with Angela an'
me the next time we go to the movies?"
She gave him a half-scornful look. "An' what would yez want with an old
woman like meself taggin' along with yez now?" Mrs. Quinn exclaimed, her
arms akimbo. "Ain't ye happy enough with yer Angela, an' no fat funeral
like me occupyin' too much room in the Ford? Go along, me lad, an' have a
good time with yer colleen! She'd like it better alone with ye, too--be
sure o' that!"
"Of course I would!"
They hadn't seen Angela come in. She stood in the doorway like a vision--a
morning-glory from which the freshness of the early hours never seemed to
depart.
"Oh!" poor "Red" gasped, and leaped to his feet. "Would you, Angela?" He
looked at her, drank her beauty in, as though she were the only creature on
this earth.
"Certainly!" said Angela, coming over to him. "You're a boob, 'Red,' and if
you don't look out, there's a fellow over at Bisbee who--"
"Oh!" the anguished "Red" managed to get out.
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