“Herf, Herf.... Let me see, it’s not a Georgiah Herf? In Atlahnta there’s an old family of Herfs....”
“No I dont think so.”
“Too bad. Once upon a time Josiah Herf and I were boon companions. Today he is the president of the First National Bank and leading citizen of Scranton Pennsylvahnia and I ... a mere mountebank, a thing of rags and patches.” When he shrugged his shoulders the bathrobe fell away exposing a flat smooth hairless chest.
“You see Mr. Oglethorpe and I are going to do the Song of Songs. He weads it and I interpwet it in dancing. You must come up and see us wehearse sometime.”
“Thy navel is like a round goblet which wanteth not liquor, thy belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies ...”
“Oh dont begin now.” She tittered and pressed her legs together.
“Jojo close that door,” came a quiet deep girl’s voice from inside the room.
“Oh poo-er deah Elaine, she wants to sleep.... So glahd to have met you, Mr. Herf.”
“Jojo!”
“Yes my deah....”