She turned, laid down the cook-book, laughed at me.
“I believe you’re really crazy about your old gas station,” she said. “And after all those threats about not settling down.”
I put my arm round her. “I’ve been too busy to realize that this is settling down. I’ve never worked so hard in my life. I had the idea that when a guy settled down, he parked his fanny, and let moss grow over him. I guess I was wrong.”
“Don’t say fanny,” she reproved. “It’s vulgar.”
I grinned at her. “Let’s run into San Francisco tonight, and paint the town red,” I said. “It’s time you and I stepped out. We’ve been working now three months without a break. How about it?”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes, let’s do that,” she said, throwing her arms round my neck. “Can you get off early?”
“If we leave just before seven it’ll be time enough. Going to put on your glad rags?”
“Of course, and so are you. It’s time I saw you in something better than those awful old overalls.”
The station buzzer sounded. That told me Bones had someone out front whom he couldn’t handle.
“A little trouble,” I said, kissing Clair. “See how important I am? The moment I turn my back—”