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132 Twouldn't be the first time Nellie and me have done a little accommodatin'," I suggested shy.

"And what pleasure do you think 'twould be to me," Isabel went on, ignorin' my generous offer, "to gallivant 'round Boston all alone, and eat in restaurants where I'd feel strange, and stared at; and go to theaters, where everybody but me is dressed up fine, and laughin' and talkin' to somebody? No, thanks."

"Oh, all right," I said, as if I washed my hands of her. Kindness won't break through the material women like Isabel clog up the avenue to their souls with, half as quick sometimes as something sharp and biting. You know how lye acts on the kitchen-sink pipe that's got stopped. That's how my pique acted on Isabel.

"I don't care what you do with your money," I went on. "It's nothin' to me. I was only suggestin'. Throw it into the swamp for all I care."

"I might tell you what I'm thinkin '  of doin' with it," she said, "if you'd stop talkin' that way and give me a chance."

"Oh, you don't have to," I said, kind of sulky.

"I was thinkin'," she said, "that I might possibly consider buyin' one of them talkin'-machines with it."

"One of them contrivances that serves up