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Strictly Business | O Henry | |
XIV. Psyche And The Pskyscraper |
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Joe was not of the nation that keeps us forever in a furore with fugues and fruit. He was a capable American youth who was laying by money, and wanted Daisy to help him spend it. Three times he had asked her. "I got money saved up, Daisy," was his love song; "and you know how bad I want you. That store of mine ain't very big, but--" "Oh, ain't it?" would be the antiphony of the unphilosophical one. "Why, I heard Wanamaker's was trying to get you to sublet part of your floor space to them for next year." Daisy passed Joe's corner every morning and evening. "Hello, Two-by-Four!" was her usual greeting. "Seems to me your store looks emptier. You must have sold a pack of chewing gum." Ain't much room in here, sure," Joe would answer, with his slow grin, "except for you, Daise. Me and the store are waitin' for you whenever you'll take us. Don't you think you might before long?" "Store!"--a fine scorn was expressed by Daisy's uptilted nose-- "sardine box! Waitin' for me, you say? Gee! you'd have to throw out about a hundred pounds of candy before I could get inside of it, Joe." "I wouldn't mind an even swap like that," said Joe, complimentary. |
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