"I suppose you know more
than I do what is a kiss and what is not. But I'll tell you
this--there is no use keeping our amatory affairs to ourselves
and then kissing so the Butler thinks the fire whistle is
blowing."
We then sat down, and I gave him the key ring, which he
said was a dandy. I then told him about getting Sis married and
out of the way. He thought it was a good idea.
"You'll never have a chance as long as she's around," he
observed, smoking father's cigar at intervals. "They're afraid
of you, and that's flat. It's your Eyes. That's what got me,
anyhow." He blue a smoke ring and sat back with his legs
crossed. "Funny, isn't it?" he said. "Here we are, snug as
weavils in a cotton thing-un-a-gig, and only a week ago there
was nothing between us but to brick walls. Hot in here, don't
you think?"
"Only a week!" I said. "Tom, I've somthing to tell you.
That is the nice part of being engaged--to tell things that one
would otherwise bury in one's own Bosom. I shall have no secrets
from you from henceforward."
So I told him about the car and how we could drive together
in it, and no one would know it was mine, although I would tell
the Familey later on, when to late to return it.
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