“More than anything in the world! I'm mad about you! You beauty! You raving beauty! You'll be the talk of the world this winter. Gee, Warble, how I can dress you, now you're thin! Won't Beer be astounded!”
That's the way things came to Warble.
The only thing she wanted, her husband's love, now flung at her feet in unstinted measure, pressed down and running over—love, slathers of it—all for her! It was sweet—a pleasant change from pickles.
“How's everybody?”
“Here and there. Iva's gone.”
“Thank Heaven! Where'd she go?”
“Dunno. Her husband took her off. Jealous of me.”
“H'm. And Daisy Snow?”
“Gone into the movies. She grew too heavy for society. May Young's in the Old Ladies' Home.”