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Updated: June 18, 2025
Redly and somewhat painfully, the observed of all observers, Miss Schump tilted her head and drank, manfully and shudderingly, to the bitter end of the glass. "Attaboy! Say, tell it to the poodles and the great Danes! That Jane's no amachure!" Eyes stung to tears, pink tip of her tongue quickly circling her lips, Miss Schump held out to Mr. Kinealy the empty tumbler. "Now, there!" "More?"
How much more daringly than my poor pen would venture, did life, all of a backhanded, flying leap of who knows what centrifugal force, transcend for Stella Schump the vague boundaries of the probable.
"Fellows don't care about that kind of thing. A girl's got to have pep and something besides complexion and elbow-grease. I'm too fat." "She's always sayin' she's too fat. With one pound off, would she look as good, Cora? If I hadn't been as plump as a partridge in my girl-days and if I do say it myself, I was as fine a lookin' girl as my Stella do you think Dave Schump would have had eyes for me?
Deeper within that threshold, at the business of flooding its floor with a run of water from a tipped pail and sweeping harshly into it, was the vigorous, bony silhouette of Mrs. O'Connor, landlady. For the second that it took her presence to be felt, Miss Schump stood there trembling, all of a sudden more deeply and more rapidly. Then, Mrs. O'Connor leaned out, bare arms folded atop her broom.
I tried once to, and she wouldn't take it." Miss Schump hooked a highly diffident hand into Mr. Sensenbrenner's sharply jutted elbow. "You two go on and talk together. I've chewed Arch's right ear off already." "It's a grand evenin' ain't it, Mr. Sensenbrenner?" At that from Miss Schump, Miss Kinealy executed a very soprano squeal that petered out in a titter of remonstrances.
"Where is she? Well, Stella Schump, sitting over there playing chums with yourself! Honest, your name ought to be Chump! Whatta you think that is the amen corner? You're a fine bunch of social entertainers, you fellows are! Bring her up a chair. Gee! you are! Honest, Gertie Cobb, I wouldn't want my cat to be company to you! Bring 'er up a chair, Ed. Here, next to me! Honest, it's a rotten shame!
Hands clutching her throat, Miss Schump remained standing there on the sun-drenched steps, gazing after the figure receding into the musty gloom of the hallway. She wanted to follow, but instead could only stand there, repeating and repeating: "O my God! O my God! God! God! What have I done? What have I done? Mamma mamma mamma! O my God! What? What "
I'll get Ed to bring him down to Gert Cobb's party next Saturday night, and you come, too." "There's two of a kind for you, Mrs. Schump. A fellow that's more afraid of girls than explosions, and a girl that's afraid to blow a little foam off a glass of beer! Them two ought to meet. Me and Arch and Ed'll fix it up. How's that for a scheme? Now say I ain't your friend! Are you game?"
To Miss Schump, her hand on Miss Kinealy's shoulder and her head peering over, the voice seemed to trail off somewhere out into infinitudes of space, off into bogs of eternity, away and behind some beyond. "Gee! it's hot in here!" she muttered, no one heeding or hearing. "Sure hot. Whew!"
But neither was she unconscious that she thereby enhanced the too high pitch of her cheek-bones and the already too generous width between them. It was when Stella Schump opened wide her eyes that she transcended the milky fleshliness and the fact that, when she walked rapidly, her cheeks quivered in slight but gelatinous fashion.
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