We haven't room
for servants, we have no guest room, I simply can't do anything
but amuse Priscilla and make desserts. We'll have the children at
the dinner table every night, and nights that Agnes is off, I'll
have a dotted black and white percale apron for you--"
This was old history, there had been a dotted percale apron years
ago, and Nancy was joking, but Bert did not laugh. He made a gruff
sound, and tightened his arm.
"Bert," said his wife, seriously, "Bert, when I kissed you this
afternoon, dirty and hot and sooty as you were, I knew that I'd
been missing something for a long time!"
Again Bert made a gruff sound, and this time he kissed his wife,
but he did not speak for a moment. When he did, it was with a
long, deep breath.
"Lord--Lord--Lord!" said he.
"Why do you say that?" asked Nancy.
"Oh, I was just thinking!" Bert stretched in his chair, to the
infinite peril of his equilibrium and hers. "I was just thinking
what a wonderful thing it is to be married, and to climb and fall,
and succeed and fail, and all the rest of it!" he said
contentedly. "I'll bet you there are lots of rich men who would
like to try it again! I was just thinking what corking times we're
going to have this year, what it's going to be like to have my
little commutation punched like the rest of 'em, and come home in
the dark, winter nights, to just my own wife and my own kids! I
like company now and then--the Biggerstaffs and the Ingrams--but I
like you all the year round.
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