Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 109 June to November 1904 . eto point her story: SoI just walked out andleft him, cigar and thats why Ithink— She pausesabruptly and looks severely at thefew remaining glasses on the table, thenat the one in her hand, then at the bag. Thats why I— Why, Dick Tarrant,ivhat am I doing? Mr. Tarrant, simply: I dont know. Mrs. Tarrant, confusedly: Well, but—but T thought I was unpacking theseglasses ? Mr. Tarrant, deprecatingly: It hadthat look at first. Mrs. Tarrant, accusingly: But nowIm packing them! Mr. Tarrant, intelligently: Exactly. Mrs. Tarran t,
Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 109 June to November 1904 . eto point her story: SoI just walked out andleft him, cigar and thats why Ithink— She pausesabruptly and looks severely at thefew remaining glasses on the table, thenat the one in her hand, then at the bag. Thats why I— Why, Dick Tarrant,ivhat am I doing? Mr. Tarrant, simply: I dont know. Mrs. Tarrant, confusedly: Well, but—but T thought I was unpacking theseglasses ? Mr. Tarrant, deprecatingly: It hadthat look at first. Mrs. Tarrant, accusingly: But nowIm packing them! Mr. Tarrant, intelligently: Exactly. Mrs. Tarran t, pa thetically: But, Dick,what am I doing that for ? Mr. Tarrant, gaining time: Well,of course I couldnt tell all in a minute,you know—the first shot out of the box—but perhaps you—er—perhaps— Mrs. Tarrant, with compressed lips: Its because I was talking so. Its too Vol. CIX.—No. 653.—91 idiotic. Will you tell me what we haveaccomplished to-day? Mr. Tarrant, brightly: Why, wevemoved those three—er—objects at leasteight times, and weve—. But Lena was there Mrs. Tan-ant, uncertainly: Oh, dont,Dick! If I wasnt so angry I should —but I dont see what good thatwould do, do you ? Mr. Tarrant, decidedly: Not a bit—do you know its dark? Too dark towork, by George! It has suddenly be-gun to darken, ivith the quick darknessthat precedes a shower. Mrs. Tarrant, expressively: Work! Mr. Tarrant, pressing a button in thewail, whereat the ghostly clanging of abell in the distance causes them to jumpnervously: Yes, madam, work—or per-haps you regard this as amusement ? Hepresses another button, and a glare ofvjhile light floods the room. If youthink that lugging a cross-looking gentle-man in a marble tam-o-shanter and alady without any head, that rubs off onyour coat, all around a room twenty timesa day, is my idea of sport, you have 732 HARPERS MONTHLY MAGAZINE. failed to read my nature correctly—truly, you have! Mrs. Tarrant, crossly: I never pre-tended
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