Elsie dried her tears. “I’m—I’m ready,” she said. “I’ve practiced my songs—”
“O, the songs,” said Druce. “That isn’t all.”
“What do you mean, Martin?”
“Why—don’t be so stand-offish. When a man offers to buy you a bottle of wine, let him.”
“Martin!”
Druce stopped her sharply. “Now don’t begin that Millville Sunday school stuff,” he said. “This is business.”
“Is it?” Elsie spoke in a whisper.
“Sure. When a man’s got a wad of bills and he’s willing to buy, string him along!”
“But I’m your wife, Martin.” Elsie was dead white and calm.
“Well, don’t let that worry you. Go as far as you like—or as far as he likes.”