“There isn’t a clot of work stirring in my brain pan,” he went on.
“I don’t want to go out. I’ve got to see Fanny——”
He caught her sleeve. “It’s too hot to go up. Let’s go somewhere. Let’s get on a bus and go uptown——”
She was too occupied in the thing she hated to do, to notice his concern. He spoke again:
“I’m not going up there alone. You’re colder than a frog to live with anyway——”
“Go out somewhere, Rufe, if you want to. Don’t mind me.”
She didn’t hear his words, but she heard the crying of Fanny’s children. The door opened. Fanny stood there, but looked past her, over Pidge’s shoulder, and queerly enough Pidge thought of the words, “And Jove nods to Jove.” The hall door was then shut.
“Wot you coming in here for—to scold me some more, Redhead?”
“No, Fanny, to see you and the——”
“I know why you come, all right. To find fault—that’s why, and you needn’t kill yourself, because I’m gettin’ along, so-so. Little old Fanny’s holdin’ her own—and that’s more’n you’re doin’.”