“You might come in,” I says. “I have a lady caller she is the wife of a gentleman friend of mine. Meet Mrs. Edgerton,” I says, “Mrs. Budd.”
And Mrs. Budd gives a courtsey that is not answered being that she is behind and aint saw and so I sweep my clothes into a heap and I says, “Come and sit on the bed,” I says. And so of course Mrs. Edgerton has to let her get by and sit down and then I feel a little better because my landlady is between us and I think maybe if there should trouble start she might shove her hand up or rattle her and spoil her aim.
But I have made a bum guess from seeing too many movies I guess for it aint anything like that. All of a sudden the lady lets her muff drop and puts her two hands up to her face white kid gloves and all and busts into tears! And there she stands shaking and sobbing and says to herself, “Oh the shame of it, the shame of it!”
So then of course I remember that she is supposed to be a sick woman and what she is going through and I am sorry and I says, “Look here Mrs. Edgerton you have got this all wrong things between your husband and me aint at all what you think,” I says.
So then she flares all hot again and drops her hands. “Do you mean to say you have not been going to dinners with my husband all the time?”
“It would be very silly of me to deny that,” I says, “seeing that your detective has been sitting at the next table to us most of the times but what is the harm of dinners?”
“And him with a wife at home!” she says with the tears running down her cheeks again. “And the dinner on the table getting cold!”
“Well that is too bad,” I says, “it was a shame to waste so many dinners but I didn’t know about that Mrs. Edgerton,” I says. “A gentleman asked me to dinner and being hungry why shouldn’t I go?”
Well I see she is human after all and I am still more sorry so I goes on real friendly like. “I guess Mrs. Edgerton you have not knowed many working girls in your life,” I says, “and you aint realized how it feels when a gentleman offers you a dinner free of charge. They pay me eighteen-fifty a week at the Elite Beauty Parlors and I have got to live on that till the next Saturday night and if I have not got anything left on Friday night I do not have any dinner,” I says. “Mrs. Budd here will tell you that I have to give her six dollars a week that is what a girl has to pay to keep the rain off her in Washington D. C. And if I spend a dollar a day for my food then I have five dollars and a half a week to dress myself like my profession requires and all the luxuries that you see in this room,” I says kind of sarcastic, “and for tooth-paste and what laundry I can’t do in the bath-tub downstairs without Mrs. Budd finding it out and for music and books and art,” I says, “and for doctor’s bills if I should—” I am just about to say, “If I should take up the notion that I have got the angina pectoris of the toe,” but I realize that would be nasty so I end kind of meek-like, “if I should be sick.”
She is staring and has got a kind of agonized curiosity in her face like she would like to know what sort of terrible animal I am. The tears is still there so I says, “What is it you believe, Mrs. Edgerton? Do you think I have been paying the woman’s price for my dinners?” I says. “Well it has been winter time and cold outside and where do you think I could of took him to? Would I bring him to this room?” I says. “If you think that just you ask Mrs. Budd here and she will show you down the stairs quick,” I says. And of course Mrs. Budd gives a snort and I says, “Do you run that sort of a house Mrs. Budd?” And she says, “Not that I know of!”