"Not as good as down-town," says I, and I named the Loop restaurants.
"How's the car service after midnight?" he says.
"Grand!" says I. "All night long."
I wondered where he would take us. Him and Bess crossed the avenue and
stopped where the crowd was waitin' for south-bound cars.
"He's got some favorite place a ways south," says the Missus.
A car come and I and her clumb aboard. We looked back just in time to
see Bessie and Bishop wavin' us farewell.
"They missed the car," says the Missus.
"Yes," I says, "and they was just as anxious to catch it as if it'd been
the leprosy."
"Never mind," says the Missus. "If he wants to be alone with her it's a
good sign."
"I can't eat a sign," says I.
"We'll stop at The Ideal and have a little supper of our own," she says.
"We won't," says I.
"Why not?" says the Missus.
"Because," I says, "they's exactly thirty-five cents in my pocket. And
offerin' my stomach seventeen and a half cents' worth o' food now would
be just about like sendin' one blank cartridge to the Russian army."
"I think they's some crackers in the house," she says.
"Prob'ly," says I. "We're usually that way--overstocked. You don't seem
to realize that our household goods is only insured for a thousand."
* * * * *
About one o'clock I went to sleep from sheer weakness. About one-thirty
the Missus shook me and woke me up.
"We win, Joe!" she says, all excited. "I think Bishop and Bess is
engaged!"
"Win!" says I. "Say, if you was a Frenchman you'd have a big celebration
every anniversary o' the Battle o' Waterloo."
"I was goin' out in the kitchen to get a drink," she says. "Bess was
home, but I didn't know it. And when I was comin' back from the kitchen
I happened to glance in the livin'-room. And I seen Bishop kiss her!
Isn't it great!"
"Yes," I says. "But I wisht she'd of had Archibald fix up her lips."