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That's how much I know he's the finest man in the world. Now then! Now then!" There was a note in Miss Pelz's voice that, in the ensuing silence, seemed actually to ring against the frail crystal. She was on her feet, head up, tears drying. "Blee-Bleema!" "Moms darling, aren't you happy? Isn't it wonderful moms?" "Roody! For God's sake, Bleema, you're choking your father to death!
It seems yesterday, Rosie, I was learning her to walk along Grand Street." "You haven't noticed, Roody, David Feist?" "'Noticed'?" "Say, you may be a smart man, Rudolph Pelz everybody tells me you are but they should know once on the Picture Rialto how dumb as a father you are. 'Noticed? he asks.
"Nothing, Rosie, not one hundred rooms and fifty baths nothing I can ever do for you is one-tenth that you deserve." "And nothing, Roody, that I can do for you is one-hundredth what you deserve." "I sometimes wonder, Rosie, if, with all we got, there isn't maybe some little happiness I've overlooked for you." She lifted herself by his coat lapels, kissing him. "Such a question!"
"That's right you'll have her riding in a horseless carriage next!" "I tell you, it's a big idea!" "I wish we had ten cents for every big idea you've been struck with." "That's just why, Rosie, I'm going to hit one right." Mrs. Pelz withdrew then the slow hand from beneath the pillow and a small handkerchief with a small wad knotted into it. "Nearly every cent in the world, Roody, that we've got.
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