Later-day motion-picture censors would have shortened that kiss considerably, say about forty seconds.
“Honestly, Si,” cried the girl, “when you kiss me like that, I just wanner die—or wish I could!”
“Some little kisser I am, huh? Nat don’t kiss you like that, now, does he, what?”
“Oh, Gawd! If he could do it that way—or ever had—maybe you’d never had the chance, Si. A girl likes to be mauled once in a while—you know—treated rough! But he’s too much of a high-brow to maul anybody. I suppose it ain’t poetical!”
Milly laughed. Plumb swore. As for Nathan,—he sank deeper into his chair. His mind was in that state which a wrecked body sometimes knows between a mangling accident and the moment when blasted nerves begin to respond and bring excruciating agony.
“Mil, honestly, this can’t go much longer! You ain’t his wife, Mil. You never was his wife. He had no business to marry you in the first place. You belong to me. And the right thing all around would be to either come out flat-footed and have a show-down, or else run off and just love as much as we please—forever. I may be a roughneck, Mil, but I hate this bein’ a sneak!”
“I know, Si, but think o’ the dough I’m layin’ by! I got almost seven hundred saved right now. Did I tell you about the New York dress? Nat gimme two hundred and fifty to buy some togs for that high-brow dinner. Do you know what I did? I got a thing that cost seventeen ninety-eight and made him think I’d blowed the whole wad. Made two hundred and thirty at a crack, right there! Gee, he’s easy! He believes anything I tell him. Just because I’m a woman, he takes everything I say for gospel truth.”
“I don’t care nothin’ about his money—unless you wanner blow it on yourself. I got money. And I can get a job anywheres. And honestly, Mil, I’m dam’ tired and sick every time a blind blows thinkin’ it’s him come back by surprise to catch us and raise hell.”
“Aw, he wouldn’t raise hell. He ain’t got the starch.” Milly laughed and apparently pulled Si’s hair. “He’s a high-brow and a poet. Poets don’t fight!”
“Don’t they, though?” commented Plumb. “I had one scrap with Nat. I ain’t hankerin’ to mix up in another. He could even gun me for what we’re doin’ now, Mil, and I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.”