"You don't know me, Mr. Perlmutter," he said. "While I am going with plenty Schatchens to see young ladies already, Mr. Perlmutter, I assure you my heart ain't in it. People gets the impression because I am a swell dresser, Mr. Perlmutter, that I am looking to get married; but believe me, Mr. Perlmutter, it ain't so."
"Then what do you go for, Gurin?" Morris asked. "Schatchens don't like to fool away their time no more as I do, Gurin; and you could take it from me, no girl is going to the trouble to fix herself up and make a nice supper for you and the Schatchen simply for the pleasure of seeing a swell dresser, Gurin."
"That's just the point, Mr. Perlmutter," Gurin said. "A feller which runs a store like this one and eats his meals in restaurants, understand me, must got to get a little home cooking once in a while. Ain't it?"
"Why not get married and be done with it?" Morris retorted; "and then you could get home cooking all the time."
Once more Gurin shook his head.
"Without love, Mr. Perlmutter, marriage is nix," he said.
"Schmooes!" Morris exclaimed. "Do you think when I got married I loved my wife, Gurin? Oser a stück. And to-day yet I am crazy about her. With a business man, Gurin, love comes after marriage."
B. Gurin rose wearily to his feet and shot his cuffs by way of showing impatience.
"What is the use talking, Mr. Perlmutter?" he protested. "When I want to get married I would get married—otherwise not."
He flecked away an imaginary grain of dust from the lapel of his coat and walked slowly toward the door.