“When will we be married?”
“Any time after I’m thin again. We want to have a splendid wedding with every one thinking what a handsome young couple.”
“And you’re not worried?”
“Darling, why should I be worried? The only time I ever felt badly was when I felt like a whore in Milan and that only lasted seven minutes and besides it was the room furnishings. Don’t I make you a good wife?”
“You’re a lovely wife.”
“Then don’t be too technical, darling. I’ll marry you as soon as I’m thin again.”
“All right.”
“Do you think I ought to drink another beer? The doctor said I was rather narrow in the hips and it’s all for the best if we keep young Catherine small.”
“What else did he say?” I was worried.
“Nothing. I have a wonderful blood-pressure, darling. He admired my blood-pressure greatly.”