“I know—and I am banting—and exercising, and rolling downstairs and all that.”
“Well, we're married, and divorces are not the novelty they once were—so let's stay put.”
“Kiss me, then—”
He brushed a butterfly kiss across her left eyebrow, and together they strolled back into the house, and as he went up to bed, Warble went down to the pantry to see about something.
CHAPTER XIII
“I d-don't belong to Butterfly Thenter,” Warble sobbed, “I don't b-belong—and I-m g-going away—”
“All right,” Petticoat said, cheerfully, “how long'll you be gone?”
“It may be four yearth and it may be eleven—”