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"I continued to board at the Dugan tent, hoping that Mame would relent. I had sufficient faith in true love to believe that since it has often outlived the absence of a square meal it might, in time, overcome the presence of one. I went on ministering to my fatal vice, although I felt that each time I shoved a potato into my mouth in Mame's presence I might be burying my fondest hopes.
"Boys, I don't want any joshin'. I've not felt extry spry lately." "Same here," said Jimmie quickly. Pete smiled sarcastically. "A little bird tole me," he remarked slowly, looking at Dan, "as how Miss Mary Willing was seen a-buggy-ridin' las' Sunday with Jack Rice." "It's true," said Dan, shortly. "Me and Mame is at outs. If I was dyin', I couldn't forgive her!" "You don't say?" cried Jimmie.
This time it was about a dirty window-pane, and on this particular morning, exasperated by the continuous gush of her reproaches, I flung an offensive word, and banged the door as I went off to work. So Mame has had to weep all the day. She has fostered and ruminated her spleen, and sniffed up her tears, even while busy with household duties.
Such opportunities was seldom, so I spoke my piece, explaining how the Brazilian diamonds and the fire kindler were laying up sufficient treasure to guarantee the happiness of two, and that both of 'em together couldn't equal the light from somebody's eyes, and that the name of Dugan should be changed to Peters, or reasons why not would be in order. "Mame didn't say anything right away.
Erma laughed in derision at the mention of it. "Oh, you silly thing," she cried, "to come to me with such a story. Don't I know Hester better than that." And Mellie, Mame, Renee, and Sara stopped the tale-bearers in their story. Yet while they tried to be true, in the heart of each one was a doubt. Had they not seen the pin many times?
"See!" he whispers as we get to the Maison Noir's show window. "She's there!" And sure enough, standin' back to, over in the corner facin' the mirror, is this classy figure in the zippy street dress, with Mame Stribble's hair and eyes. She's doin' the dummy act well, too. I couldn't see either breath or eye flutter. "Huh!" says I. "It's by me. Let's go in and interview Madame Maurice."
She paused a moment to ascertain the reason for the bell's ringing. A murmur of voices came from the several rooms below. They were beautifully modulated with the intonation of those who have been trained to speak carefully. "Really, I think you are mistaken, Mame. The Fraulein told me that Helen had gone to her aunt and would not return until Monday." "I am not mistaken.
No, Jeff; I'll marry no man and see him sit at the breakfast table and eat, and come back to dinner and eat, and happen in again at supper to eat, eat, eat. "'But, Mame, says I, 'it'll wear off. You've had too much of it. You'll marry some time, of course. Men don't eat always. "'As far as my observation goes, they do.
An' that landlady never got in till six this mornin'!” “My Gawd!” I exclaimed. “Hope she was lucky after playin' poker that long!” “She sure was,” sighed Mame. “Gee! I jus' wish ya c'u'd see the swell prize she won!—the most beau-teful statue—stands about three feet high—of Our Blessed Lady of the Immaculate Conception.” Mame's friendship could become almost embarrassing.
"So Collier and me begins the race; the grub department lays in new supplies; Mame waits on us, jolly and kind and agreeable, and it looks like an even break, with Cupid and the cook working overtime in Dugan's restaurant. "'Twas one night in September when I got Mame to take a walk after supper when the things were all cleared away.
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