Their Second Marriage
Their Second Marriage
“HENRY, do you know what day Thursday will be?”
“Thursday? The twenty-first.”
“Yes, and what will the twenty-first be?”
“Thursday.”
“Oh, Henry!” Pretty Mrs. Waring looked tragically across the breakfast-table at her husband, or rather at the newspaper that screened him completely from her view. “Do put down that paper for a moment. I never get a chance to speak to you any more in the morning, and I have to spend the whole day alone. Do you really mean to say that you don’t know what the twenty-first is?”
“The twenty-first?” Mr. Waring met his wife’s gaze blankly as he hurriedly swallowed his coffee, and then furtively observed the hands of the watch that lay open on the table before him. “What do you mean, Doll? Say it quickly, for I’ve got to go.”