“Gee, you’re as funny as your own funeral—you are! You keep up the express pace you’re going and there won’t be another October left on your calendar.”
“That’s right; cheer me up a bit, dearie. What’s the latest style in undertaking?”
“You’ll know sooner ’n me if—”
“Aw, Hat, cut it! Wasn’t I home in bed last night by eleven?”
“I ain’t much on higher mathematics.”
“Sure I was. I had to shove you over on your side of the bed; that’s how hard you was sleeping.”
“A girl can’t gad round dancing and rough-housing every night and work eight hours on her feet, and put her lunch money on her back, and not pay up for it. I’ve seen too many blue-eyed dolls like you get broken. I—”
“Amen!”
Sara Juke rolled her blue eyes upward, and they were full of points of light, as though stars were shining in them; and always her lips trembled to laugh.
“There ain’t nothing funny, Sara.”