Honest, I don't!"
"Go on an' read it!" she commanded.
Mickey obeyed. As he finished she faced him in wonder.
"Why they ain't a damn bit of sense to it!" she cried.
"_Course_ there ain't!" agreed Mickey. "Course there _would be_ no sense
to anything that wasn't about _you!_"
"Then what did you put it there in my place for?"
"I didn't! I'm trying to tell you!" persisted Mickey.
Peaches shed one degree of royal hauteur. "Well why don't you go on an'
tell, then?"
"Aw-w-ah! Well if you don't maneuver to beat a monoplane! I've tried to
tell you, and you won't _let_ me. If you stop me again, I'm going to march
out of this room and stay 'til you bawl your eyes red for me."
"If you go, I'll call Junior!" said Peaches instantly.
"Well go on and call him!"
He turned, his heart throbbing, his eyes burning with repressed tears, the
big gulp in his throat audible to Peaches, as her little wail was to him.
He whirled and dropping on his knees took her in his arms. She threw hers
around his neck, buried her face against his cheek, and they cried it out
together.
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