(xx) The Wedding Ring

Well, sir, the evening meal has been over only a little while as our scene opens now. And here in the living room of the small house halfway up in the next block with my administrator, Mrs. Victor Gough.

Our friends are seated on the Davenport with sections of the newspaper, and the master of the menage seems to have come upon an article of interest for his reading aloud with briskness and enjoyment. Listen.

Multiple coefficients of modern business procedure. Mr. Oslunar also touched on the variants and imponderables connected with the mercantile conduct in general. Three can mend in this day and age, he said, may be likened to the merchants of the ancient times to whom miscellaneous tenets of humanitarianism and alcohol-perceptive considerations were in direct relation to that day.

Let me read my own trash here. What trash is that? A little daily love story. You would prefer to occupy your mind with childish and trivial- Yes, anyway I heard the kitchen door open. Is that your russle?

Hi, boss. Mr. Curtis, oh, Slooner, say, whose words I was quoting formerly taught mathematics in college. Did he? Oh, very, I saw the name. Seems to me as long as a man of his intellectual caliber is willing to surrender the fruit of his rich thought in a newspaper article, at least we can do it.

That's really hard, above. Something extremely vital and important, no doubt. Yes, Willie? Uncle Fletcher's there. Curtis, oh, Slooner, of course, never said anything but nonsense. He's just a poor halfwit for all Curtis' lawyers. Oh, the weirdest thing.

Where is Uncle Fletcher? He'll be right along. He paused out the alley minute to speak to Mr. Raze's come. Mr. Raze's come to Pioria. Oh, I mean Mr. Niecesuffer. Bye, Georgie. You sure stepped on on live these this evening.