... Unless you want to go to that music-hall?"
"Oh no, no, no! Gee, I was just _crazy_ to have somebody to talk
to--somebody nice--I was just about nutty, I was so lonely," all
in a burst. He finished, hesitatingly, "I guess the English are
kinda hard to get acquainted with."
"Lonely, eh?" she mused, abrupt and bluffly kind as a man, for
all her modulating woman's voice. "You don't know any of the
people here in the house?"
"No'm. Say, I guess we got rooms next to each other."
"How romantic!" she mocked.
"Wrenn's my name; William Wrenn. I work for--I used to work for
the Souvenir and Art Novelty Company. In New York."
"Oh. I see. Novelties? Nice little ash-trays with `Love from
the Erie Station'? And woggly pin-cushions?"
"Yes! And fat pug-dogs with black eyes."
"Oh no-o-o! Please not black! Pale sympathetic blue eyes--nice
honest blue eyes!"
"Nope. Black. Awful black.... Say, gee, I ain't talking too
nutty, am I?"
"`Nutty'? You mean `idiotically'? The slang's changed
since--Oh yes, of course; you've succeeded in talking quite
nice and `idiotic.
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