The Definite Object Part 33

"She has a beautiful laugh!" said Ravenslee musingly.

"An' then she got thoughtful--"

"She's loveliest when she's thoughtful, I think," said Ravenslee.

"An' then she got mad at you an' frowned--"

"She's very handsome when she frowns!" said Ravenslee.

"Oh, shucks!" said his landlady, slapping the ham rasher into the pan.

"And she was very angry, was she?"

"I should say so!" snorted Mrs. Trapes, "stamped her foot an' got red in the face--"

"I love to see her flus.h.!.+" said Ravenslee musingly again.

"Said she wondered at you, she did! Said you was a man without any pride or ambition--an' that's what I say too--peanuts!"

"They're very wholesome!" he murmured.

"Sellin' peanuts ain't a man's job, no more than grinding a organ is."

"There's money in peanuts!"

"Money!" said Mrs. Trapes, wriggling her elbow joints. "How much did you make yesterday--come?"

"Fifty cents."

"Fifty cents!" she almost screamed, "is that all?"

"No--pardon me! There were three pimply youths on Forty-second Street--they brought it up to seventy-five."

"Only seventy-five cents? But you sold out your stock; Tony told me you did."

"Oh, yes, trade was very brisk yesterday."

"And you sold everything for seventy-five cents?"

"Not exactly, Mrs. Trapes. You see, the majority of customers on my beat are very--er--small, and their pecuniary capabilities necessarily somewhat--shall we say restricted? Consequently, I have adopted the--er--deferred payment system."

"Land sakes!" said Mrs. Trapes, staring, "d'ye mean ter say--"

"That my method of business is strictly--credit."

"Now look-a-here, Mr. Geoffrey, I'm talkin' serious an' don't want none o' your jokes or jollying."

"Solemn as an owl, Mrs. Trapes!"

"Well, then, how d' you suppose you can keep a wife and children, maybe, by selling peanuts that way or any way?"

"Oh, when I marry I shall probably turn my--attention to--er--other things, Mrs. Trapes."

"What things?"

"Well--to my wife, in the first place."

"Oh, Mr. Geoffrey, you make me tired!"

"Alas, Mrs. Trapes, I frequently grow tired of myself."

Mrs. Trapes turned away to give her attention to the ham.

"Did ye see that b'y Arthur yesterday?" she enquired presently over her shoulder.

"Yes."

"How's he like his noo job?"

"Well, I can't say that he seems--er--fired with a pa.s.sion for it."

"Office work, ain't it?"

"I believe it is."

"Well, you mark my words, that b'y won't keep it a week."

"Oh, I don't know," said Ravenslee, "he seemed quite content."

"You took him to the theayter las' night, didn't you? Wastin' your good money, eh?"

"Not very much, Mrs. Trapes," said her lodger humbly.

Mrs. Trapes sniffed. "Anyway, it's a good thing you had him safe out o'

the way, as it happens."

"Why?"

"Because that loafer M'Ginnis was hanging around for him all the evenin'. Even had the dratted imperence to come in here an' ask me where he was."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Tell him?" she repeated. "What did I not tell him!" Her voice was gentle, but what words could convey all the quivering ferocity of her elbows! "Mr. Geoffrey, I told Bud M'Ginnis just exactly what kind o' a beast Bud M'Ginnis is. I told Bud M'Ginnis where Bud M'Ginnis come from an' where Bud M'Ginnis would go to. I told Bud M'Ginnis the character of his mother an' father, very plain an' p'inted."

"And what did he say?"

"He say! Mr. Geoffrey, I didn't give him a chance to utter a single word, of course. An' when I'd said all there was to say, I picked up my heaviest flatiron, as happened to be handy, an' ordered him out; and Mr.

Geoffrey, Bud M'Ginnis--went!"