"It's fuh a Christmas present," explained the Persimmon, carelessly, "fuh th' woman I'm libin' wid now. Mahaly's a great woman fuh style. I'm goin' to divo'ce my other wives, one at a time lak my lawyer say."
"On what grounds?" asked Peter, curiously.
"Desuhtion."
"Desertion?"
"Uh huh; I desuhted 'em."
Jim Pink shook his head, picked up a pebble, and began idly juggling it, making it appear double, single, treble, then single again.
"Too many divo'ces in dis country now, Persimmon," he moralized.
"Well, whut's de cause uv 'em?" asked the Persimmon, suddenly bringing his protruding yellow eyes around on the sleight-of-hand performer.
Jim Pink was slightly taken aback; then he said:
"'Spicion; nothin' but 'spicion."