"
"H'm. You love him?"
"Oh, yeth!"
"All right--love and grow thin, and then he'll come round. Or get a case of
ptomaine poisoning--that'd help. But don't take the matter too lightly. If
you want your husband, get him, if you don't, then let him go.
"I've just let mine go. You see we had a place--a sort of Vegetarian and
Free Love Community proposition, but it didn't work out so we sold it."
"And your husband?"
"Oh, he's on his own for a while. I'm deciding what to fly at next. I
always ask nephew Bill's advice so as to know what not to do."
"Forgot to mention it," said Petticoat, strolling in, "but a few people are
coming to-night to help me plan for my new Color Organ."
"What's that?" asked Warble, gazing at Petticoat in azure-eyed adoration.
"Oh, Lord, don't you know _anything_? Tell her, Aunt Dressie!" and turning
on his French heel, Petticoat walked delicately out of the room.
"Treat him rough, Warble, you're an awful fool," commented the older woman.
"Why, a Color Organ is that marvelous new invention that plays color
instead of sound."
"Color--instead of--sound--"
"Yes--now don't try to understand, for you can't possibly. Go and play with
the children."
"I won't. Tell me more about this thing."
"I won't.
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