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"It's a shame, let me tell you, that a woman like Mrs. Kaufman can't see for herself such things. God forbid I should ever be so blind to my Irving. I tell you that Ruby has got it more like a queen than a boarding-housekeeper's daughter. Spats, yet!" "Rich girls could be glad to have it always so good."
Finshriber has to-morrow for Easter dinner that skin doctor, Abrams, and his wife she's so particular about. And Annie with her sore ankle and " "A little shyster doctor like Abrams with his advertisements all over the newspapers should sponge off you and your holiday! By golly! Mrs. Kaufman, just like Ruby says, how you let a whole houseful of old hens rule this roost it's a shame!"
Henry van Dyke and Newell Dwight Hillis and Herbert Kaufman and Billy Sunday, and all these brainy, inspirational fellows, and let me tell you I get a lot of talking-points for selling my trade out of their spiels, too. And all these sex stories! Don't believe in 'em! Sensational!
Whoever it was stopped, perhaps at the desk, then he sensed anxiety, and the Kin started moving again. Not long after, Enna Kaufman was at the door of his cell, opening it and entering. She knelt beside him. "Jase, what's wrong?" Her nearness calmed him; Thompson breathed deeply, his tension easing. "I wish to Chaos I knew!
Prom two flights up, in through the open door and well above the harsh sound of scrubbing, a voice curled down through the hallways and in. "Mrs. Kaufman, ice-water ple-ase!" "Lenie," he said, his singing, tingling fingers closing over her wrist. "Mrs. Kauf-man, ice-water, pl " With her free arm she reached and slammed the door, let her cheek lie to the back of his hand, and closed her eyes.
"All right, ma," stitching placidly on. "What'll you give me, Ruby, if I tell you whose favorite color is pink?" "Aw, Vetsy!" she cried, her face like a rose, "your color's pink!" From the depths of an inverted sewing-machine top Mrs. Kaufman fished out another bit of the pink, ruffling it with deft needle. The flute lifted its plaintive voice, feeling for high C. Mr.
Kaufman shot out her arm from the coverlet, jerking back the sheet and feeling for her daughter's dewy, upturned face where the tears were slashing down it. "Baby!" "Mommy, you you mustn't!" "Oh, my darling, like I didn't suspicion it!" "It's only " "You got, Ruby, the meanest mama in the world. But you think, darling, I got one minute's happiness like this?" "I'm all right, mommy, only "
Won't you come in for a while, Mr. Vetsburg?" "Don't care if I do". She opened the door, entering cautiously. "Let me light up, Mrs. Kaufman." He struck a phosphorescent line on the sole of his shoe, turning up three jets. "You must excuse, Mr. Vetsburg, how this room looks. All day we've been sewing Ruby her new dress."
"No, I haven't," Thompson admitted. But he had to add, "I wouldn't, either, because I'm afraid they'd think I was pressuring them." Kaufman eased her hand to the other side of his neck, and Thompson moved closer without quite realizing it. "Look at them, my friend. They're feeling good, and I can assure you that anyone who's donated to one of us once wants to do it again." She chuckled.
"He's a fine fellow, Mrs. Kaufman. With his uncle to help 'em, they got, let me tell you, a better start as most young ones!" She rose, holding on to the desk. "I I " she said. "What?" "Lena," he uttered, very softly. "Lena, Mr. Vetsburg?" "It 'ain't been easy, Lenie, these years while she was only growing up, to keep off my lips that name. A name just like a leaf off a rose.
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