From that day until the hour that I led you to the
altar, you'd fondle the ugliest little brats that we met in the
street, but the moment you GOT me----"
"Alfred!" gasped Zoie. This was really going too far.
"Yes, I repeat it!" shouted Alfred, pounding the table with his
fist for emphasis. "The moment you GOT me, you declared that all
children were horrid little insects, and that someone ought to
sprinkle bug-powder on them."
"Oh!" protested Zoie, shocked less by Alfred's interpretation of
her sentiments, than by the vulgarity with which he expressed
them.
"On another occasion," declared Alfred, now carried away by the
recital of his long pent up wrongs, "you told me that all babies
should be put in cages, shipped West, and kept in pens until they
got to be of an interesting age. 'Interesting age!' " he
repeated with a sneer, "meaning old enough to take YOU out to
luncheon, I suppose."
"I never said any such thing," objected Zoie.
"Well, that was the idea," insisted Alfred. "I haven't your glib
way of expressing myself."
"You manage to express yourself very well," retorted Zoie. "When
you have anything DISAGREEABLE to say. As for babies," she
continued tentatively, "I think they are all very well in their
PLACE, but they were NEVER meant for an APARTMENT."
"I offered you a house in the country," shouted Alfred.
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