“Well, an’ I’m not goin’ to,” said William bluntly. “An’ I’m not goin’ to be married to you any more an’ ’f I play house I’m goin’ to have Joan.”
“You can’t do that,” said Violet Elizabeth calmly.
“Can’t do what?”
“Can’t change your wife. Ith divorth if you do an’ you get hung for it.”
This nonplussed William for a moment. Then he said:
“I don’ believe it. You don’ know. You’ve never been married so you don’ know anything about it.”
“I do know. Hereth Ginger and Douglath and Hubert Lane. You athk them.”
Ginger and Douglas and Hubert Lane, all loudly and redolently sucking Bulls’ Eyes, were coming down the road. Hubert Lane was a large fat boy with protruding eyes, a superhuman appetite and a morbid love of Mathematics who was only tolerated as a companion by Ginger and Douglas on account of the bag of Bulls’ Eyes he carried in his pocket. He had lately much annoyed the Outlaws—by haunting the field they considered theirs and, in spite of active and passive discouragement, thrusting his unwelcome comradeship upon them.
“I SAY, MR. MARCH,” YELLED WILLIAM, “IS IT DIVORCE
OR BIGAMY IF YOU CHANGE YOUR WIFE?”