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Dawn O'Hara | Edna Ferber | |
A Turn Of The Wheel |
Page 3 of 4 |
"I'm not counting at all, Blackie, and you can't discourage me." "Don't want to. But I'd hate to see you come down with a thud." Suddenly he sat up and a grin overspread his thin face. "Tell you what we'll do, girlie. We'll celebrate. Maybe it'll be the last time. Let's pretend this is six months ago, and everything's serene. You get your bonnet. I'll get the machine. It's too hot to work, anyway. We'll take a spin out to somewhere that's cool, and we'll order cold things to eat, and cold things to drink, and you can talk about yourself till you're tired. You'll have to take it out on somebody, an' it might as well be me." Five minutes later, with my hat in my hand, I turned to find Peter at my elbow. "Want to talk to you," he said, frowning. "Sorry, Peter, but I can't stop. Won't it do later?" "No. Got an assignment? I'll go with you." "N-not exactly, Peter. The truth is, Blackie has taken pity on me and has promised to take me out for a spin, just to cool off. It has been so insufferably hot." Peter turned away. "Count me in on that," he said, over his shoulder. "But I can't, Peter," I cried. "It isn't my party. And anyway--" Peter turned around, and there was an ugly glow in his eyes and an ugly look on his face, and a little red ridge that I had not noticed before seemed to burn itself across his forehead. "And anyway, you don't want me, eh? Well, I'm going. I'm not going to have my wife chasing all over the country with strange men. Remember, you're not the giddy grass widdy you used to be. You can take me, or stay at home, understand?" |
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Dawn O'Hara Edna Ferber |
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