Revelations of a Wife: The Story of a Honeymoon — John Shaqi
Revelations of a Wife: The Story of a HoneymoonGarrison, Adele
General
Revelations of a Wife: The Story of a Honeymoon
Garrison, Adele
Married people -- Fiction
"Will you shake hands on it?" He put out his large, white, beautifully
formed hand and grasped mine before I had half extended it.
I felt myself flushing hotly. Of all the absolutely idiotic things
in the world, this standing hand in hand with Harry Underwood, in a
formal pact of friendship or forgiveness or whatever he imagined the
hand-clasp signified, was the most ridiculous. He was quick enough
to fathom my distaste, but he clasped my hand tighter and, bending
slightly so that he could look straight into my eyes he said, lazily
smiling:
"You are the most charming prevaricator I know. You come pretty near
to hating me, little lady. But you won't dislike me long. I'll make a
bet with myself on that."
"Hold that pose just a minute. Don't move. It's simply perfect."
Lillian Underwood's merry voice interrupted her husband's declaration.
With clever mimicry she struck the attitude of a nervous photographer
just ready to close the shutter of his camera. Dicky stood just behind
her too, also smiling, but while Lillian's merriment evidently was
genuine, I detected a distaste for the proceedings behind Dicky's
smile, which I knew was forced.
Lillian slipped in an imaginary plate, then springing to one side
stood pretending to clasp the bulb of the shutter in her hand, while
she counted: "One, two, three, four, five--thank you!"
"Now if you will just change your expressions," she rattled on.
"Harry, why don't you take both her hands? Then if Mrs. Graham will
smile a little we will have a sentimental gem, or if she makes her
expression even a trifle more disapproving than it is I can label it,
'Unhand me, villain.'"
"I never take a dare," returned her husband, and snatched my other
hand. But I was really angry by this time, and I wrenched my hands
away with an effort and threw my head a trifle haughtily, although
fortunately I was able to control my words:
"Do you know, people, that there will be no food for you tonight
unless I busy myself with its preparations immediately? Mrs.
Underwood, won't you entertain those boys and excuse me for a little
while?"
I went into the dining room and put on the kitchen apron I had taken
off when I heard the voices of my early guests. Almost immediately
Lillian appeared arrayed in the apron I had given her. She came up to
the table and surveyed it with appraising eyes.
"I am glad of this chance to speak with you alone, for I want to
explain to you about him."
She stopped with an embarrassed flush. I gazed at her in amazement.
Lillian Underwood flustered! I could not believe my eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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