“Ducky!” says Laurine. “I’m lonesome! Why haven’t you come up?”
“I… been busy,” I say, strangling slightly.
“Pooh! ” says Laurine. “Listen, Ducky! Do you remember how much in love we used to be?”
I gulp.
“Are you doin’ anything this evening?” says Laurine.
I gulp again, because she is smiling at me in a way that a single man would maybe get dizzy, but it gives a old married man like me cold chills. When a dame looks at you possessive—
“Ducky!” says Laurine, impulsive. “I was so mean to you! Let’s get married!”
Desperation gives me a voice.
“I… got married,” I tell her, hoarse.
Laurine blinks. Then she says, courageous: