"You see, out West--" I began.
"My Gawd!"--Minnie waved a hand scornfully--"don't be tryin' to tell
me all men are angels out West."
Just then Miss Hibber poked her head in and we suddenly took ourselves
out.
"You go easy, now," Minnie whispered after me.
I lacked the nerve, anyhow, and they put on the finishing touches. A
bricklayer would not have been so bad. How did I know the chauffeur
was not working for a friend of mine? That, later on, would make it
more embarrassing for him than me. I should think he would want to
wring my neck.
It was about time to find a new job, anyhow. But leaving the
brassworks is like stopping a novel in the middle. What about Rosie
and good looking Bella and her brother she was trying to rescue from
the grip of the poolroom? Mame--Mame and her kaleidoscope romances,
insults, and adventures? I just hate walking off and leaving it all.
And the boss and Miss Hibber so nice to me about everything.
Before a week is gone Minnie will be telling in an awed voice that she
knows what happened. She told me not to go out with that chauffeur. I
went, anyhow, and they found my mangled body in the gutter in
Yonkers.