"Baked beans!"
"If you'd rather have the eggs just say so, because they aren't any trouble."
"No, I wouldn't."
"All right, then, it's beans?"
"Beans!"
India's Love Lyrics. Jimmy had lent him those.
There is a flower that I fear
Here was another. "Less than the dust" That was what J. Hartley Harrison was always singing, going up on his toes like a ballet dancer, with his eyeglasses shining and the veins standing out on his forehead. Joe couldn't read it without seeing him. But this one was different:
So hopelessly, so far apart?
Oh, I implore you, come to me!
Come, Consolation of my heart!
"Supper, Joe!" cried Kate, beating upon the Chinese gong.
For a moment he flung himself down beside his chair. He pressed his face against his folded arms; his heart ached with vague happy pain. Then he ran downstairs, falling over his feet, to baked beans and crescent rolls and the potatoes Charlotte had remembered.
