Paradise Garden: The Satirical Narrative of a Great ExperimentGibbs, George
General
Paradise Garden: The Satirical Narrative of a Great Experiment
Gibbs, George
Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Satire
She seemed to be able to understand Marcia little better than I did.
But in a moment from my seat in the corner just beside them I saw Una
look about the room and give a little gasp of pleasure.
"This cabin! Do you remember, Jerry?" she said quietly. "You gave me a
cup of tea here and we decided just what you and I were going to do
with the wicked world?"
"Oh, don't I? And you told me all about the plague spots?"
"Yes." She gazed out of the window. "You were interesting that day,
Jerry."
"Was! I like that."
"So elephantine in your seriousness--"
"Elephantine! Oh, I say--"
"But you _were_ nice. I don't think I've ever liked you so much as
then. I think you're really much more interesting when you're
elephantine. It was quite glorious the way you were planning to go
galumphing over all vice and wickedness."
He shook his head soberly.
"I haven't made good, Una."
"Oh, there's still time. The jungle is still there, but it's an
awfully big jungle, Jerry, bigger than you thought."
"Yes--bigger and swampier," he said slowly.
"I think if I could see more of you, Una, I might be better."
"I don't know that I've ever denied you the house," she laughed.
"I--I'm coming soon. But I want you to see my place here--the house,
I mean. Couldn't you come with your mother and--and sisters and spend
a few days up here?"
"Perhaps it would be time enough for me to answer that question when
mother does. I--I _am_ busy, you know."
"Please! And we can have one of our good old chats."
"Yes," and then mischievously, "but you'd better ask Marcia first,
don't you think?"
His gaze fell and he reddened.
"I--I don't quite see what Marcia's got to do with it," he muttered.
"Oh, _don't_ you?"
"No."
She smiled and then with a really serious air:
"Well, I do. I'm sorry I intruded, Jerry. I wouldn't have come for the
world if I had known--"
"What nonsense you do talk. Promise me you'll come, Una."
"Ask Marcia first."
He laughed uneasily. "What a tease you are!"
"You ought to be very much flattered."
"How?"
"To be worth teasing."
Here they moved slightly away, turning their backs toward me and
unfortunately I could hear no more. And so I sat listening to the
group around Marcia, who was again enthroned at the tea-table.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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