Page:Minnie Flynn (1925).pdf/47

 What a flat, insipid voice Elsie had, Minnie was thinking as she strained forward to catch the drift of the whispered conversation. A voice like her colorless face!

"Pete, dear, you know I'm awful glad to help you get home. . . ." Minnie started at the intimacy of the "Pete dear. . . . ." "And some day I hope you'll tell your ma that if it wasn't for me you'd never of gone home at all."

"Sure will, Elsie. Never gone home a-tall. Damn little snip, Minnie, gonna wring her neck!"

"She's just a crazy kid, Pete. She don't mean nothin' by it."

Pete's swaying figure struck one of the marble columns. The sudden jar caused him to belch violently.

Elsie's long thin arms reached out to steady him. "Pete, darlin'," she cried, "go inside now. Go upstairs and sleep so you'll feel O. K. in the mornin'."

"Whash time we get spliced?"

"S-sh! Somebody might hear you." Elsie raised on tiptoe so her mouth was close to his ear. "I'll be outside Sullivan's at two o'clock. We'll get a license. Then Father Duffy'll marry us tomorrow night. Tomorrow night, Pete," she emphasized this strangely. "For God's sake, don't forget it."

"You sure you got enough money, now? You ain't holdin' out on me. Damn it! If you're holdin' out on me!"

"Pete, I swear upon everything holy that I got four hundred dollars. I've been savin' up for ten years I—I got a hope chest, too."

"Whash t'hell's that?"

"A box filled with things I've been makin' up ever since I was a kid. Towels and napkins. Classy little table covers with flowers embroidered on 'em. Kitchen aprons. Oh, Pete, don't laugh at me. I—I got"