Just Around the Corner Part 72

"Well, then, I'll give you three guesses."

"I dunno."

"Look--now can you?"

He showed her the top of a small, square box tied with blue cord. It bore a jeweler's mark.

"Can you guess now, Lil? It's something you been aching fer."

"Lemme alone!" she said.

He looked at her in frank surprise, slowly replacing the box in his hip-pocket.

"Durned if I know what's got you!" he muttered.

"Nothing ain't got me," she insisted.

He brightened.

"Poor little girl! Never mind; next summer I'm goin' to grab that Atlantic City job I been tellin' you about. The old man said again yesterday that, jest as sure as he opens his sheet-music bazar down there next season, it's me fer the keyboard."

"His schemes don't ever turn out. I know his talk," his wife objected.

"Sure they will this time, Lil; he's got a feller to back it. He dropped in special to hear me play the 'Louisanner Rusticanner Rag' to-day; an'

honest, Lil, he couldn't keep his feet still! I sprung that new one on him, too--the 'Giddy Glide'--an' I had to laugh; the old man nearly jumped over the pianner--couldn't sit quiet! Just you wait, Lil. I got that job cinched--no more picture-show stuff fer me! It'll be us fer the board-walk next summer!"

"That's jest what you said about grabbin' that Coney Island job this season."

"I couldn't help it that they cut out the pianner at the Concession, could I? The films ain't no more fun fer me than fer you, honey."

"It's pretty lonesome for a girl sitting here alone every night. It was bad enough before you took the twelve-to-two job; but I never have no evenin's nohow."

He looked at her with wide-open eyes.

"I didn't know you were sore, Lil--on the real, I didn't! I jest took that cafe job fer a few weeks to help along the surprise." His hand went to his hip-pocket.

"Oh," she said, her lips curling, "I'm sick of that line of talk."

"Lil!"

There was a count-five pause; and then the old cheeriness came back into his voice.

"I'm going to cut out the cafe job, anyway, now that--"

"Oh, never mind," she said, indifferently. "What's it matter whether you are home at twelve or two? I ain't had no evenin's for a good long time, anyhow."

"I guess you're right. Don't I wish I had some steady clerkin' job, like Bill! But it don't seem like I am cut out fer anything but pounding ragtime--you knew that, honey, before we was--" He stopped, reddening.

"No, I didn't! If I'd known before we was married what I know now, things might be different. How was I to know that you was goin' to be changed from matinee work to all-night shows? How was I to know you was goin' to make me put up with a life like this? When I see other girls that's married out of the department, and me, I jest wanna die! Look at Sally Lee and Jimmy--they go to vaudyville every week and to Coney Sat.u.r.days. You even kick if I wanna go over to Loo's to spend a evening!"

"I don't kick, Lil; I jest don't like to have you running round with that live wire. She ain't your style."

"That's right--run down my friends that I worked next to in the gloves fer four years! She was good enough fer me then. Me and her is old friends, and jest 'cause I'm married don't make me better'n her."

"I'm sorry I kicked up about it, honey. Maybe I was wrong."

"She can tell you that I had swell times when I was in the gloves--even when I was in the notions, too. There wasn't a night I didn't have a bid for some dance or something."

"Well, if this ain't a darn sight better'n pushing gloves at six per I'll--I'll--"

"I'll give you to understand, Charley Harkins, that I was making eight dollars when I married you, and everybody said that I'd 'a' been promoted to the jewelry in another year."

She rose, gathered a pyramid of dishes, and clattered them into the dish-pan as he talked. He followed after her.

"Aw, quit your foolin', Lil, can't you? Don't treat a feller like this when he comes home at night. I'll get Shorty to take the piano next Sat.u.r.day, and we'll do Coney from one end to the other. We only live once, anyway. Come on, Lil; be nice and see what I got fer you, too."

"Don't treat me like I was a kid! When I was in the gloves I didn't think nothin' of goin' to Coney every other night, and you know it, all right."

The red surged back into his face.

"Yes, you had a swell time shooting gloves! You used to tell me yourself you was ready to drop at night."

"Ain't I ready to drop here?" she flashed back at him. "Am I any better off here doin' my work in the hottest flat on Third Avenue?"

"Things'll come out all right, honey. Come on and kiss me before I go."

She submitted to his embrace pa.s.sively enough, and at his request retied his necktie round a fresh collar for him.

"Good night, p.u.s.s.y! I'll come in soft so as not to wake you--there ain't goin' to be no more of this two-o'clock business. I'm goin' to cut out the cafe. Put a gla.s.s of milk out fer me, honey. I'm near dead when I get in."

He struggled into his coat before the little dressing-table mirror of their bedroom and with a sly smile slipped the blue-corded box into a top drawer.

"I got a surprise fer you, Lil--only you ain't in no mood fer it right now."

"I ain't in no humor for nothin'," she said.

"It's going to be a scorcher. You take it easy and get rid of these blues you been gettin' here lately. You ain't got no better friend than your old man or any one who wants to do more of the right thing by you."

"I'll take a car-ride over to Loo's to cool off," she said, apathetically.

He opened his lips to speak; instead he nodded and kissed her twice.

Then he hurried out.

After he left her she sank down on the little divan of highly magnetized red plush and stared into s.p.a.ce. Face to face with her weeks-old resolve, her courage fainted, and a shudder like ague pa.s.sed over her.

She could hear herself wheeze in her throat; and her petal-like skin, unrelieved by moisture, was alternately hot and cold.

The low-ceiled room, dark except for a reflected slant of yellow gas-light coming in from the kitchen, closed down like an inverted bowl.

She went to the window.