I'd quit if I didn't like it.
Anyway, you're not bad to work for. I thought working was going to kill me. Besides it's not me they're after.
It's you."
"Alas."
"But whatever you do, don't let them shove you around."
"Matilda's making us omelettes, that all right, Miss Tomson."
"Are they going to reek."
"Dear me, I hope not. I instructed her to leave out particularly strong ingredients."
"Just so I don't leave here smelling like a dago. How did the sport go."
"O sparred a few rounds. Let the instructor have a few on the button/'
"You must be tough."
"I can handle my dukes. Also took a beginner's lesson in the rudiments of wrestling, never know these days.
Some terrifying physical specimens around that wrestling room."
"Gee tell me about them Mr. Smith. I love hearing about these big tarzans, that's the way my brother's built, the one who gets his picture on the social page, he goes right out under the arms, you'd swear he had no stomach at all. Shape of a V. At home in our kitchen he'd come in without a stitch on and open up the ice box, take out the milk and drink a whole quart in one gulp. His body is really magnificent. Our parents brought us up letting us look at each other. I think that's the way it ought to be. He lifts weights. You should see him. And throws that thing they have at races, that round ball. But Mr. Smith aren't you afraid of being killed by one of these guys."
"I can take care of myself."
"Cut the kidding Mr. Smith one of these guys could break you in half, I'd be careful if I were you. You're just not built."
"Miss Tomson, this is a club for sportsmen and gentle-men."
"I don't know, Mr. Smith, you just seem too frondlike for that kind of thing. I just don't see it, you grappling with one of these tarzans, not one like my brother anyway, he's really beautiful. Even big as he is, he moves like he was a panther."
"I'm sure he does, Miss Tomson."
"Hey come on Mr. Smith, I hurt your feelings didn't I. Come on now, I did."
"On on o."
"I have, I know when I have. But you're just not one of these big apes. I mean you're no weakie Mr, Smith, you've got things they haven't got."
"What Miss Tomson."
"Well. Maybe you're not mentally weak, maybe that's what I'm saying. Like you're gentle. Got nice hands. You show consideration. Those things are something, Mr. Smith. I just could never, but never, you know see you stark at the ice box under a bottle of milk, that would be just, it would be just -"
"I think dinner's served, Miss Tomson."
"See there I go, can't control my mouth. How did we get on this anyway."
"I believe you asked me how the sport went."
"O yesh."
Miss Tomson in black. She wore green this afternoon. And she's wearing flat shoes for my sake. Makes me half an inch taller. She stands up straight and walks swinging her hips. Those two handy melons wandering around under the backside of her skirt. As she flashes her head back and catches my globes glued.
"You think I'm walking like I was compromised, Mr. Smith."
"I don't quite get you, Miss Tomson."
"You know, Mr. Smith."
"I don't Miss Tomson, why are you shaking your head."
"Because Mr. Smith you're one of the most innocent guys. Ha ha, I think. Can't you see I'm walking as if I'm looking for it."
"For what."
"For it. Don't force me to say it because I will."
"Please, Miss Tomson. I don't mind myself but there's Matilda."
"Don't think she's not looking for it either."
"Miss Tomson, do you like asparagus."
Miss Tomson tall, sat at the other end of the maple, Smith's favorite tree. George reaching out to push aside the thriving ferns which Matilda had placed squarely between the diners so they couldn't see each other. The asparagus comes in. Laid out cooked and dead on the moss green plates. Naturally I reached for my napkin and let it fall over my thigh. Miss Tomson spreading hers across her lap. She's looking and waiting. For the asparagus. Can't possibly take it lankly with the fingers until she does. Surely she'll use
Anyway, you're not bad to work for. I thought working was going to kill me. Besides it's not me they're after.
It's you."
"Alas."
"But whatever you do, don't let them shove you around."
"Matilda's making us omelettes, that all right, Miss Tomson."
"Are they going to reek."
"Dear me, I hope not. I instructed her to leave out particularly strong ingredients."
"Just so I don't leave here smelling like a dago. How did the sport go."
"O sparred a few rounds. Let the instructor have a few on the button/'
"You must be tough."
"I can handle my dukes. Also took a beginner's lesson in the rudiments of wrestling, never know these days.
Some terrifying physical specimens around that wrestling room."
"Gee tell me about them Mr. Smith. I love hearing about these big tarzans, that's the way my brother's built, the one who gets his picture on the social page, he goes right out under the arms, you'd swear he had no stomach at all. Shape of a V. At home in our kitchen he'd come in without a stitch on and open up the ice box, take out the milk and drink a whole quart in one gulp. His body is really magnificent. Our parents brought us up letting us look at each other. I think that's the way it ought to be. He lifts weights. You should see him. And throws that thing they have at races, that round ball. But Mr. Smith aren't you afraid of being killed by one of these guys."
"I can take care of myself."
"Cut the kidding Mr. Smith one of these guys could break you in half, I'd be careful if I were you. You're just not built."
"Miss Tomson, this is a club for sportsmen and gentle-men."
"I don't know, Mr. Smith, you just seem too frondlike for that kind of thing. I just don't see it, you grappling with one of these tarzans, not one like my brother anyway, he's really beautiful. Even big as he is, he moves like he was a panther."
"I'm sure he does, Miss Tomson."
"Hey come on Mr. Smith, I hurt your feelings didn't I. Come on now, I did."
"On on o."
"I have, I know when I have. But you're just not one of these big apes. I mean you're no weakie Mr, Smith, you've got things they haven't got."
"What Miss Tomson."
"Well. Maybe you're not mentally weak, maybe that's what I'm saying. Like you're gentle. Got nice hands. You show consideration. Those things are something, Mr. Smith. I just could never, but never, you know see you stark at the ice box under a bottle of milk, that would be just, it would be just -"
"I think dinner's served, Miss Tomson."
"See there I go, can't control my mouth. How did we get on this anyway."
"I believe you asked me how the sport went."
"O yesh."
Miss Tomson in black. She wore green this afternoon. And she's wearing flat shoes for my sake. Makes me half an inch taller. She stands up straight and walks swinging her hips. Those two handy melons wandering around under the backside of her skirt. As she flashes her head back and catches my globes glued.
"You think I'm walking like I was compromised, Mr. Smith."
"I don't quite get you, Miss Tomson."
"You know, Mr. Smith."
"I don't Miss Tomson, why are you shaking your head."
"Because Mr. Smith you're one of the most innocent guys. Ha ha, I think. Can't you see I'm walking as if I'm looking for it."
"For what."
"For it. Don't force me to say it because I will."
"Please, Miss Tomson. I don't mind myself but there's Matilda."
"Don't think she's not looking for it either."
"Miss Tomson, do you like asparagus."
Miss Tomson tall, sat at the other end of the maple, Smith's favorite tree. George reaching out to push aside the thriving ferns which Matilda had placed squarely between the diners so they couldn't see each other. The asparagus comes in. Laid out cooked and dead on the moss green plates. Naturally I reached for my napkin and let it fall over my thigh. Miss Tomson spreading hers across her lap. She's looking and waiting. For the asparagus. Can't possibly take it lankly with the fingers until she does. Surely she'll use
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