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Updated: May 15, 2025
So Bubseley tottered down the walk while Babseley turned out the lights and retired to her room with a bag of candy and a paprika-brand of novel. At midnight she tossed it aside and with self-pity prepared to go to sleep. "And I'll have to go to work to-morrow," she sighed, planning her next silk dress as she did up the Titian hair in curlers.
Trudy said, glibly, as she kissed Gay good-night. "Perfectly lovely!" he echoed, politely. "Don't work too hard to-morrow, Babseley, will you? And do nothing rash until you see me." "Call me up to-morrow at eight, Bubseley," she giggled. The pet names were of Gay's choice.
"Babseley, she's coming to call to-morrow!" he said, joyfully, hanging up his velours hat and straddling a little gilt chair. "Really? I wish we had a better place. I feel at a disadvantage. If it were a man I wouldn't mind, I could act humble and brave that sort of dope. But it never goes with a woman; you have to bully a rich woman, and I'm wondering if I can."
It was discovered that Gaylord's was a most hampering name and had his parents only consulted the stars and named him Scintar who knows to what heights he might not have risen? Trudy's astral title should have been Urcia, which she now adopted, blushing deeply as she recalled the vulgar Babseley and Bubseley of former days.
For Gaylord, resplendent in ice-cream flannels, and Trudy, wearing an unpaid-for black-satin dress with red collar and cuffs, were both busier than the proverbial beaver planning their wedding. It was to be an informal and unexpected little affair, being the direct result of the Gorgeous Girl's demands as to settling her household. "You've no idea how jolly easy it was, Babseley.
Besides, he admired her tremendously; he felt like a rake and a deuce of a chap when they went out together, and he relied on her vivacity Pep had been his pet name for her before he originated Babseley to carry him through. It really would be quite an easy matter to live on nothing a year until something turned up.
"My wife is going to have her own apartment. One of father's friends has built several apartment houses and he'll be sure to let me in." "Are we dreaming?" Trudy asked, thinking of how indebted she was to Beatrice O'Valley, yet how she envied and hated her. "No, Babseley, I'll phone you to-morrow and come down.
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