"Yes, 'cause he can't get you. Go along with him, and then see where you'll
be! No, my Soufflee, you hear me! Can the Porgie and stick to your own Big
Bill--your own legit."
"But you don't love me--"
"Oh, I do--in my quaint married-man fashion. And--ahem--I hate to mention
it--but--"
"I know--and I _am_ banting--and exercising, and rolling downstairs and all
that."
"Well, we're married, and divorces are not the novelty they once were--so
let's stay put."
"Kiss me, then--"
He brushed a butterfly kiss across her left eyebrow, and together they
strolled back into the house, and as he went up to bed, Warble went down to
the pantry to see about something.
CHAPTER XIII
"I d-don't belong to Butterfly Thenter," Warble sobbed, "I don't
b-belong--and I-m g-going away--"
"All right," Petticoat said, cheerfully, "how long'll you be gone?"
"It may be four yearth and it may be eleven--"
"Oh, come, now, not all that time! It isn't done."
"You d-don't underthtand--I'm going to find my plathe in the world--I don't
belong here."
"All right. Can I go 'long?"
"No; you stay here. I'm--oh, don't you thee--I'm leaving you!"
"Oh, that's it?"
"You'll have the girls to amuse you--"
"What girls?"
"Iva and Lotta and Daisy and May Young--"
"They're not girls--they're married women--"
"What!"
"Sure they are.
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