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Latz, she'll never be happy until she cares again like that. I always say, once an affectionate nature, always an affectionate nature." "You mean," he said, leaning forward the imperceptible half-inch that was left of chair, "you mean me?" The smell of bay rum came out greenly then as the moisture sprang out on his scalp. "I I'm a home woman, Mr. Latz.
It was almost a miracle, her kind of death, because out of all that jam of tonnage she carried only one bruise, a faint one, near the brow. And the wonder was that Louis Latz, in his grief, was so proud. "To think," he kept saying over and over again and unabashed at the way his face twisted "to think they should have happened to me. Two such women in one lifetime as my little mother and her.
This very minute I've a real jumping case of neuralgia. But I wouldn't have anything for it except the electric pad. I feel fine. Strong! Alma, the bad times with me are over." "Oh, mama, mama, how I pray you're right." "You'll thank God for the day that Louis Latz proposed to me. Why, I'd rather cut off my right hand than marry a man who could ever live to learn such a thing about me."
Weeks and weeks of this and already Louis Latz's trousers were a little out of crease and Mrs. Latz after eight o'clock and under cover of a very fluffy and very expensive négligée, would unhook her stays. Sometimes friends came in for a game of small-stake poker, but after the second month they countermanded the standing order for Saturday night musical comedy seats.
Mamma! you can't backslide now ever." "My little baby, who's helped me through such bad times, it's your turn now, Alma, to be care free like other girls." "I'll never leave you, mamma, even if he Latz shouldn't want me." "He will, darling, and does! Those were his words. 'A room for Alma." "I'll never leave you!" "You will!
A second time she stopped, this time to address a little nub of a woman without a hat and lugging one-sidedly a stack of men's basted waistcoats, evidently for home work in some tenement. She looked and muttered her un-understanding at whatever Carrie had to say, and shambled on. Then Mrs. Latz spied her daughter, greeting her without surprise or any particular recognition.
I always say, once an affectionate nature, always an affectionate nature." "You mean," he said, leaning forward the imperceptible half inch that was left of chair "you mean me ?" The smell of bay rum came out greenly then as the moisture sprang out on his scalp. "I I'm a home woman, Mr. Latz. You can put a fish in water, but you cannot make him swim. That's me and hotel life."
I know a thing or two about those fellows over there. Some of them are wonders." Mrs. Samstag looked off, her profile inclined to lift and fall as if by little pulleys of emotion. "That's easier said than done, Mr. Latz, by a a widow who wants to do right by her grown daughter and living so high since the war." "I I " said Mr.
There was a time during the first months of the married life of Louis and Carrie Latz when it seemed to Alma, who in the sanctity of her lovely little ivory bedroom all appointed in rose enamel toilet trifles, could be prayerful with the peace of it, that the old Carrie, who could come pale and terrible out of her drugged nights, belonged to some grimacing and chimeric past.
"But it's not fair. We'll have to explain to him, dear that we hope you're cured now, but " "If you do if you do I'll kill myself! I won't live to bear that! You don't want me cured. You want to get rid of me, to degrade me until I kill myself! If I was ever anything else than what I am now to Louis Latz anything but his ideal Alma, you won't tell! Kill me, but don't tell don't tell!"
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