Tall girl and fairly
good-looking. Puts on an awful lot of 'dog.' What is it you fellows
in the Army call it? Swunk?"
"Swank," said Courtney, rather shortly. He was still smarting under
the sting of his afternoon's experience.
"Lemme help you to some more squash, Mr. Thane," said Margaret
Slattery in his ear. "And another biscuit."
"Thank you, no," said he.
"What's the matter with your appetite?" she demanded. "You ain't
hardly touched anything this evenin'. Sick?"
"I'm not hungry, Margaret."
"Been out in the sun too much, that's what's the matter with you.
First thing you know you'll get a sunstroke, and THEN! My Uncle
Mike was sunstruck when I was--"
"Pass me the biscuits, Maggie, and don't be all night about it," put
in Mr. Webster. "I'm hungry, even if Court isn't. I can distinctly
remember when you used to pass everything to me first, and almost
stuff it--"
"Yes, and she used to do the same for me before you shaved off your
chin whiskers, Charlie," said Mr. Hatch gloomily. "How times have
changed."
"It ain't the times that's changed," said Margaret. "It's you men.
You ain't what you used to be, lemme tell you that."
"True,--oh so true," lamented Mr. Webster. "I used to be nice and
thin and graceful before you began showering me with attention. Now
look at me. You put something like fifty pounds on me, and then you
desert me.
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