He refuted the thought with a kiss.
"I ain't good enough for you, Birdie."
"I ain't good enough for you, Marcus."
"You can believe me, Birdie, when he told me to-day it was just like I had died inside."
"It shows it don't pay to work too hard for such people, Marcus—they don't appreciate it."
"I can get the same money as now at Lowen-Felsenthal's; they were after me last year."
"You go, Marcus. You can work up with them; besides, I like the ready-to-wear business better than boys' pants and neckwear."
"I wanted to start out with giving you more than you got already, Birdie."
"Believe me, mamma and papa had no such start as we got. We can afford maybe one of those three-rooms-and-bath apartments in Harlem—Flossie Marks says they're just perfect; and mamma and papa lived right in back of the factory—I remember it myself. Which is worse?"
"That's why I hate it for them, Birdie; your mamma wants you to have the best like she didn't have—I hate it for her."