"
And as the house was under Petticoat rule, Big Bill won out.
"You must have a party, Warble," Petticoat said, as he fitted a long, slim
cigarette into a long, slim holder.
"I'd rather have a baby," and she looked up at him inquiringly.
"Honest, Warbie, I can't afford it. I've lots of money, but we take a lot
of keeping ourselves, and to keep a baby means almost a whole extra
establishment. Let's wait till I've saved up a bit, or we have a windfall.
Leathersham owes me a small fortune for his cook's ptomaine cases--she's
always getting poisoned with her imported canned things--but Goldie's slow
pay, and too, I want to make a few improvements on the place. I'm thinking
of bringing over a Moorish Courtyard intact--nice, eh?"
"What's it good for?" demanded Warble. "We've done our courting, and
anyway--look here, Bill, there's only three things I can do. Have a baby--"
"Cut it out, Warb; I haven't the means just now. And it might be twins."
"That's so. Well, the second thing is to reform this town. It's going to
the dogs--to little, silly Pekes and Poms. I can save it, and correct its
ways and put it on a sound utilitarian basis."
"Don't believe you could do that."
"Can do. But the third trick is to flop over to their side and be like the
town people myself.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49