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Updated: May 25, 2025
Don't you think people will insist on it? After today?" "Guess work," said Henry. "Pure guesswork. But my guess is that we're ditched." "Well, why don't you join the Exhibitors Association, and fight?" He shook his head. "No, because that's just what Mix and Aunt Mirabelle expect me to do. This campaign of theirs is impersonal towards everybody else, but it's slightly personal towards me.
To Mirabelle he said that he was going to confer with his friend, the head of the Watch-and-Ward Society. Mirabelle promptly volunteered to go along too, but Mr. Mix told her, as delicately as he could, that it wouldn't look proper, and Mirabelle, who worshipped propriety as all gods in one, withdrew the suggestion.
No more wild men of Borneo, no more dishes to wash, no more Orpheum. Remember what Aunt Mirabelle said a year ago? She was dead right. Look! See the writing on the wall, baby?" He swung her towards the door! she brushed away her tears, and beheld the writing. It was in large red letters, and what it said was very brief and very appropriate. It said: EXIT.
Mix had been arguing that the smiles and sympathy of his fellow-passengers were cheap at the price, but when he rose and escorted Mirabelle down the aisle, he was telling himself that the old-fashioned principle was best the wife's property ought to pass under the absolute control of the husband.
His chin was squarer than usual, and his eyes were harder. "You can see what happened, can't you? Aunt Mirabelle railroaded him through and the pompous old fool looks the part and she let him promise money she expects to get in August. And I'll bet it hurt him just as much to promise it as it does me to have him!" She threw the paper to the floor. "Henry, can't we do something?
He spread carefully out on a fine white cloth his Mirabelle plums, which looked for all the world as if they had been freshly gathered, and when he saw the Princess coming out of church he began to call out in a feigned voice: 'Fine plums! lovely plums! 'How much are they? said the Princess. 'Fifty crowns each. 'Fifty crowns! But what is there so very precious about them?
Mix was insufferably bored, and cumulatively restless, but he was convinced that he was making headway, so that he kept his mind relentlessly on the topic, and dispensed honey by the shovelful. When he prepared to leave, he tested out his conviction, and reminded her gently: "Now, in regard to that note " Mirabelle was blinded by her own visionings, and deafened by her own eloquence.
But suppose they did arrest somebody under that Ordinance? What would you do?" "Fine 'em, of course. I'd have to. But I've never had such a case that I can remember. There haven't been any arrests. It's an understood thing." "Yes, that's fine as long as everybody understands it the same way. But maybe Mix doesn't or Aunt Mirabelle either." "Oh, I shouldn't worry much." Henry continued serious.
And after that, there was nothing worth waiting for. It never occurred to Henry, when he came home in late July, to take his wife to the big brick house which had been his uncle's. He didn't know whether the house would go to Aunt Mirabelle or to himself, and for the time being, it was immaterial; Aunt Mirabelle was welcome to possession of it, undisturbed.
"Oh, yes, Theodore, I took the liberty of making a few slight changes." "Slight changes! Sleight of hand changes!" Mirabelle drew herself up. "Do you mean to say you criticise what I did? I couldn't see the sense of being milk-and-watery, even if you could. All I put in was what you've said to me a hundred times over. We've wasted too much time already.
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