Gaslight Sonatas by Fannie Hurst
page 57 of 307 (18%)
page 57 of 307 (18%)
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"Yes--and scrimp and save and scrooge along without a laundress another four years, and do his washing and--" "I--could fix the money part, Harry--easy." He regarded her with his jaw dropped in the act of chewing. "By Gad! where do you plant it?" "It--it's the way I scrimp, Harry. Another woman would spend it on clothes or--a servant--or matinées. It ain't hard for a home body like me to save, Harry." He reached across the table for her wrist. "Poor little soul," he said, "you don't see day-light." "Let him go, Harry, if--if he wants it. I can manage the money." His scowl returned, darkening him. "No. A. E. Unger never seen the inside of a high school, much less a college, and I guess he's made as good a pile as most. I've worked for the butcher and the landlord all my life, and now I ain't going to begin being a slave to my boy. There's been two or three times in my life where, for want of a few dirty dollars to make a right start, I'd be, a rich man to-day. My boy's going to get that right start." "But, Harry, college will--" |
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