Amusedly she began, "Well, I might be persuaded--"
Ray cut in sharply. "Sherry, I think you'd better go.
She felt a small shock in her nerves. She knew Ray didn't mean Detroit. Sherry knew it too. He looked long and reproachfully at his host. Then he turned back to Necia.
"So I'm dismissed, my sweet. I told you I'd lost my confidence, and this is the way it shows. I always say the wrong things in the right place."
She was flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sure Ray was joking."
Sherry shook his head slowly. "No joke." He stepped close and pressed his cheek against hers in response to her sympathy.
"You-you don't have a hat?" she attempted.
"No. I'll just run along without calling a taxi. I'll need a long walk now. Goodby, dear girl. I-I know what I've missed in life when I see the likes of you. Goodby, Ray. Sorry I live so much in the past."
She waited till the door closed before she marched before her husband with blazing eyes. "I don't think I have ever, in all my life"
He stopped her words gently with a hand over her mouth. Endearingly he grasped both of her upper arms. "Don't say it, Necia. Wait till sometime when you know better. Sherry was an emergency in my life. A war-housing emergency, yes, and another variety also. I'm glad you didn't understand. There are things a man wants to remember
always, and there are things he wants to forget completely. You've made me forget wholesomely-until tonight."
Her anger was melting fast before his implied wisdom which she did not comprehend. "Sherry was only clowning," she protested softly.
"Let's call it that. Native clowns never mature. That's the fairest criticism I can offer for him."
"Darling are you sure you weren't a little jealous of his small pats and praises of me?"
Her tall husband smiled at her for the first time this evening. "Could Sherry ever take my place with you?"
She laughed in a whisper at the ludicrous idea. It was her admission of error. "But I would like to paint his picture in oils, and perhaps sew on his buttons, and even scrub behind his ears.
"Exactly. He hasn't grown up. So he's still a boy."
She admitted, "I never wanted to grow up. No woman does."
"Now you're closer to the truth. Sherry isn't equal to responsibility. He likes to attract attention. He wants breakfast in bed, and a pressed shirt ready for him, and theater tickets on the dresser."
"But he's really not a fool," she insisted. "Anyone can see that."
"He's not a fool, no. He can't help being the way he is." Leaning down he kissed her lips.
She whispered impishly, "I can understand that kind of a fool, because I'm one myself."
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