“I think you know what I mean!”
“Now you look here, Mother! All right, I’ll sit down and be quiet, but—— I certainly do not know what you mean! The way I’ve always been a good husband to her, and stood for her total inability to be nice to the most important members of my congregation—— And of all the chilly propositions you ever met! When I have folks here for dinner—even Rigg, the biggest man in the church—she hasn’t got hardly a thing to say. And when I come home from church, just absolutely tired out, and she meets me—does she meet me with a kiss and look jolly? She does not! She begins crabbing, the minute I enter the house, about something I’ve done or I haven’t done, and of course it’s natural—”
“Oh, my boy, my little boy, my dear—all that I’ve got in this whole world! You were always so quick with excuses! When you stole pies or hung cats or licked the other boys! Son, Cleo is suffering. You never pay any attention to her, even when I’m here and you try to be nice to her to show off. Elmer, who is this secretary of yours that you keep calling up all the while?”
The Reverend Dr. Gantry rose quietly, and sonorously he spoke:
“My dear mater, I owe you everything. But at a time when one of the greatest Methodist churches in the world and one of the greatest reform organizations in the world are begging for my presence, I don’t know that I need to explain even to you, Ma, what I’m trying to do. I’m going up to my room—”
“Yes, and that’s another thing, having separate rooms—”
“—and pray that you may understand. . . . Say, listen, Ma! Some day you may come to the White House and lunch with me and the president! . . . But I mean: Oh, Ma, for God’s sake, quit picking on me like Cleo does all the while!”
And he did pray; by his bed he knelt, his forehead gratefully cool against the linen spread, mumbling, “O dear God, I am trying to serve thee. Keep Ma from feeling I’m not doing right—”
He sprang up.
“Hell!” he said. “These women want me to be a house dog! To hell with ’em! No! Not with mother, but—— Oh, damn it, she’ll understand when I’m the pastor of Yorkville! O God, why can’t Cleo die, so I can marry Hettie!”