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All right for Pollock, and that's none of our business, but we I think I'd just give the Dillons the glad hand and pass 'em up." "But why? He isn't a rival." "That's all right!" Kennicott was aggressively awake now. "He'll work right in with Westlake and McGanum. Matter of fact, I suspect they were largely responsible for his locating here.
Man, I'd like to burn this town!" Kennicott observed, "There's that old crank Wes Brannigan shooting off his mouth again. Gosh, but he loves to hear himself talk! They ought to run that fellow out of town!"
He returned with an entirely new group, and this time there were three automobile fenders and a carnival rattle. When Kennicott again interrupted his shaving, Cy piped, "Naw, you got to give us two dollars," and he got it. A week later Cy rigged a tic-tac to a window of the living-room, and the tattoo out of the darkness frightened Carol into screaming.
On a November evening when Kennicott was in the country she answered the bell and was confused to find Erik at the door, stooped, imploring, his hands in the pockets of his topcoat. As though he had been rehearsing his speech he instantly besought: "Saw your husband driving away. I've got to see you. I can't stand it. Come for a walk. I know! People might see us.
Kennicott had never thought of giving her an allowance. His mother had never had one! As a wage-earning spinster Carol had asserted to her fellow librarians that when she was married, she was going to have an allowance and be business-like and modern. But it was too much trouble to explain to Kennicott's kindly stubbornness that she was a practical housekeeper as well as a flighty playmate.
He seems to be a very decent young man. I just felt that when he'd worked so hard on the plans for the match, it was a shame not to be nice to him." "Maybe there's something to that," mumbled Harry; then, at sight of Kennicott coming round the corner tugging the red garden hose by its brass nozzle, he roared in relief, "What d' you think you're trying to do, doc?"
Kennicott grumbled on their way home, "You and this Valborg fellow seem quite chummy." "Oh, we are. He's interested in Myrtle Cass, and I was telling him how nice she is." In her room she marveled, "I have become a liar. I'm snarled with lies and foggy analyses and desires I who was clear and sure." She hurried into Kennicott's room, sat on the edge of his bed.
But it certainly was nice up to the twenty-first, this month as I remember it, not a flake of snow in November so far, has there been? But I shouldn't wonder if we'd be having some snow 'most any time now." "Yes, good chance of it," said Erik. "Wish I'd had more time to go after the ducks this fall. By golly, what do you think?" Kennicott sounded appealing.
It had not occurred to her that they might touch her. Now she was aware that they knew all about her; that they were waiting for some affectation over which they could guffaw. No schoolgirl passed their observation-posts more flushingly than did Mrs. Dr. Kennicott. In shame she knew that they glanced appraisingly at her snowy overshoes, speculating about her legs.
She could not distinguish their eyes. They were a blurry theater-audience before which she self-consciously enacted the comedy of being the Clever Little Bride of Doc Kennicott: "These-here celebrated Open Spaces, that's what I'm going out for. I'll never read anything but the sporting-page again. Will converted me on our Colorado trip.
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