Mrs. Cullingham. [Hesitates.] Er—no—I don't think! You must draw the line somewhere! He wouldn't do a thing to Corbett, would he?
Jinny. Who was Corbett?
Mrs. Cullingham. He was a prize fighter, and is—but that's another story— Do you mean to say you've never heard of him?
Jinny. Oh, the name sounds familiar. But this, you know, is Apollo.
Mrs. Cullingham. No, I don't know; was he a champion?
Jinny. No, he was a Greek god!
Mrs. Cullingham. Oh, was he? Well, I wouldn't have cared about being in the tailoring business in those days, would you? Let's sit down. [They sit on bench Right.] Of course you know we wouldn't accept a thing like that in Peoria, where I come from, as a gift! No, indeed! If the King of Italy sent it over to our Mayor, he'd return it C.O.D.
Jinny. Sounds like Boston and the Macmonnies Bacchante!
Mrs. Cullingham. Oh, my dear, worse than that! It reminds me of a man at home who kept an underclothing store in our principal street and had a plaster cast of this gent's brother, I should think, in his window to show a suit of Jaegers on,—you know, a "combination"! And our Town Committee of Thirteen for the moral improvement of Peoria made the man take it out of his window and hang the suit up empty!
Jinny. Poor man!