Conventional Ease
A proposal was imminent. Both knew it. He talked about the tariff for a little while, but that subject had no romance, and it was soon dropped. Finally he reached for her hand. “Dearest! ” She said nothing - . “You know I love you.” More silence. “And I want you to be my little wife.” Her silence must have unnerved him. He soon turned to the practical side of the affair. “I make thirty-five a week, and I know you think well of me. How about it?” She looked at him steadfastly. “George,” she said, “I like you well enough to marry you. J’m going to talk frankly to you. You want me to marry you on thirty-five a week. I want to tell you that I have no interest in a home. I play bridge for money. I like to smoke a lot. I require expensive clothes and continual excitement. I can’t cook, and I won’t learn. I know little that would be useful. Do you still want me to marry you?” He smiled indulgently. “Sure,” he answered. “Why should I have a wife that is different from so many other men’s wives?” —New York “Medley.”
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19270730.2.183
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 110, 30 July 1927, Page 25
Word Count
197Conventional Ease Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 110, 30 July 1927, Page 25
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