“We lost about forty-five thousand in two months.”
“That countin’ in the thousand you gave Sadie for her birthday?”
“No—Lord, no!”
Bernamer looked about the increased, wide farm and the tin roofed garage where Mark’s blue motor stood pompous beside the cheap family machine. He drawled, “Well, you’ve sunk about twenty-five thousand right here, bud. You let up on us. Save your money and set up that theatre of your own you want so. And I’m makin’ some money on the side.”
“How?”
The farmer grinned.
“That no good Healy boy—Margot’s mamma’s cousin, come soft soapin’ round for a loan last summer. He and another feller have a kind of music hall place in Trenton. A couple of girls that sing and one of those movin’ picsher machines. They wanted five hundred to put in more chairs. I fixed it I’d get a tenth the profit and they’ve been sendin’ me twenty-five and thirty dollars a week ever since—and prob’ly cheatin’ the eye teeth out of me. Dunno what folks go to the place for—but they do.”
“Funny,” said Mark.
A bugle blew in the grey bulk of the Military Academy. Boys came threading out across the flat snow between ice girt tree trunks. A triple rank formed below the quivering height of the flagpole where the wind afflicted the banner. The minute shimmer of brass on the blue uniforms thrilled Mark. The flag rippled down in folds of a momentary beauty. He sighed and turned back to the pink papered living room where Gurdy’s small, fat legged sisters were clotted around Margot’s rosy velvet on a leather lounge. Old Walling smoked a sickening cheroot and smiled at all this prettiness. Margot’s black hair was curled expansively by the damp air. She sat regally, telling her country cousins of Mastin’s shop where Mark bought her clothes. She kissed every one good-bye when Mark’s driver steered the car to the door and told Eddie Bernamer how well his furred moleskin jacket suited him. In the limousine she stretched her bright pumps on the footwarmer beside Mark’s feet and said, “Oh, you’ve some colour, now, papa!”
“Have I? Cold air. D’you know you say na-ow and ca-ow, daughter, just like you lived on the farm the year ’round?”