"It's my home town," she replied, coldly. "The only relation I had is buried there. It's nothing out of your way to drop me on the court-house steps and pick me up as you drive back, I've been wanting to get there ever since we're down here. Wanting to stop by your home town you haven't seen in five years isn't unreasonable, is it?"
He admitted it wasn't, leaning to kiss her.
She turned to him a face soft, with one of the pouts he usually found irresistible.
"Honey," she said, "what do you think?"
"What?"
"Chris is buying May that chinchilla coat I showed you in Meyerbloom's window the day before we left."
"The deuce he is!" he said, letting go of her hand, but hers immediately covering his.
"She's wiring her sister in the 'Girlie Revue' to go in and buy it for her."
"Outrage—fifteen thousand dollars to cover a woman's back! Look at the beautiful scenery, honey! You're always prating about views. Look at those hills over there! Great—isn't it?"
"I wouldn't expect it, Wheeler, if it wasn't war year and you landing one big contract after another. I'd hate to see May show herself in that chinchilla coat when we could beat her to it by a wire. I could telegraph Meyerbloom himself. I bought the sable rug of him. I'd hate it, Wheeler, to see her and Chris beat us to it. So would you. What's fifteen thousand when one of your contracts alone runs into the hundred thousands? Honey?"