By that time the occupant of the monogamistic harem would
be in dreamland, the bulbul silenced and the hour propitious for
slumber.
"Big Jim" always arose at twelve, meridian, for breakfast, and soon
afterward he would return to the rendezvous of his "crowd."
He was always vaguely conscious that there was a Mrs. Dougherty. He
would have received without denial the charge that the quiet, neat,
comfortable little woman across the table at home was his wife. In
fact, he remembered pretty well that they had been married for nearly
four years. She would often tell him about the cute tricks of Spot,
the canary, and the light-haired lady that lived in the window of the
flat across the street.
"Big Jim" Dougherty even listened to this conversation of hers
sometimes. He knew that she would have a nice dinner ready for him
every evening at seven when he came for it. She sometimes went to
matinees, and she had a talking machine with six dozen records. Once
when her Uncle Amos blew in on a wind from up-state, she went with
him to the Eden Musee. Surely these things were diversions enough for
any woman.
One afternoon Mr. Dougherty finished his breakfast, put on his hat
and got away fairly for the door. When his hand was on the knob be
heard his wife's voice.
"Jim," she said, firmly, "I wish you would take me out to dinner this
evening. It has been three years since you have been outside the door
with me."
"Big Jim" was astounded.
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