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"Well then, I don't! But I'm sure that some day I'll find some solution. Probably I'm a hexagonal peg. Solution: find the hexagonal hole." Carol was very brisk. "How do you know you ever will find it?" "There's Mrs. Westlake. She's naturally a big-city woman she ought to have a lovely old house in Philadelphia or Boston but she escapes by being absorbed in reading."
Why can't they leave you alone?” I asked two of the Falls men I knew if their sex would have acted the same as the girls, had it been two men going off for a two months' treat. “You bet,” they answered. “It's your darn small-town jealousy, and not just female at all.” Suppose, then, on top of all the drawbacks of small-town life, the girls had to work under big-city factory conditions?
Of all the meat-shooters, the market-gunners who prey on wild fowl and ground game birds for the big-city markets are the most deadly to wild life. Enough geese, ducks, brant, quail, ruffed grouse, prairie chickens, heath hens and wild pigeons have been butchered by gunners and netters for "the market" to have stocked the whole world. No section containing a good supply of game has escaped.
He makes me rude to him in self-defense. Oh yes, he is glad to be here. He does like us. He's so good an actor that he convinces his own self. . . . I'd HATE him in Boston. He'd have all the obvious big-city things. Limousines. Discreet evening-clothes. Order a clever dinner at a smart restaurant. Drawing-room decorated by the best firm but the pictures giving him away.
So far as you were concerned, you'd located a man with a reward on his head." He shook his head deprecatingly. "If we hadn't sent out a top-secret bulletin to all the big-city police chiefs to be on the lookout for this guy you'd have had it spread in some tabloid." "A person has a right to make a buck," King said stubbornly. "Oh, sure. Again the universal defense.
It went in along with other items of the day's news as a more or less routine big-city happening. One national-hookup headliner stated: "In New York City today, a man identified as John Dennis, address unknown, went berserk in a fashionable Upper East Side apartment. Dennis, wielding a knife, killed a man and a woman, and seriously wounded another man before he was cut down by police bullets.
He put his arm about her waist; it was a large, strong, sophisticated arm, and very agreeable; he grinned at her with a devastating knowingness, while Kennicott glowed inanely. She flushed; she was alarmed by the ease with which the big-city man invaded her guarded personality. She was glad, in retreat, to scamper ahead of the two men up-stairs to the hall-room in which Hugh slept.
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