the deuce are you talking about?" said Skinner, staring at Honey, wild-eyed. "What do you mean?"
She clapped her hands. "Now, don't argue! I've planned it all out! We're going to have a good time – good clothes! We 're going to begin on you, you old dear! You're going to have a dress suit!"
"Dress suit?" Skinner echoed. "Why dress suit? Why dress suit now at this particular stage of the game? Why dress suit at all?"
"Why? For the reception at the First Presbyterian, of course. I 'm tired of having you a sit-in-the-corner, watch-the-other-fellow-dance, male-wallflower proposition! You old dear, you don't think I 'm going to let you miss that affair just for the sake of a dress suit, now that we've got a whole year's raise to spend – do you?"
"How much does a dress suit cost?" Skinner murmured, almost inarticulately.
"Only ninety dollars!"
Skinner reached for his demi-tasse and gulped it down hot. "I see," he said. Then, after a pause, "Couldn't we hire one? It's only for one occasion."
"My Dearie in a hired dress suit? I guess not!"
Skinner pondered a moment, like a cat on a fence with a dog on either side. "Could n't we buy it on the installment plan?"
"We might buy a cheap suit on the installment plan. But remember, Dearie, we're not going to be cheap people any more!"
"One can see that with half an eye," said Skinner.
"Now, Dearie, don't be sarcastic."
"I think I 'll have another demi-tasse," said Skinner, playing for time, and held out his cup.
"It'll keep you awake, Dearie."
"If I don't sleep, it won't be the coffee that keeps me awake," said Skinner enigmatically; so Honey brought in the second demi-tasse.
When dinner was over, the Skinners spent the rest of the evening in front of the open fire. Honey put her arms about Dearie and smiled into the flames. Skinner looked at her tenderly for a few moments, pressed her soft, glossy hair with his lips, and began to realize that he 'd have to do some high financing!
That night, as Skinner lay staring at the ceiling and listening to Honey's gentle and happy breathing, he reflected on the beginnings of a life of crime. Ninety dollars right off the bat! Gee whiz! He had not included any such thing in his calculations when he had hit upon his brilliant scheme of self-promotion. Great Scott! – what possibilities lurked in the background of the deception he'd practiced on Honey! He 'd heard of the chickens of sin coming home to roost, but he'd never imagined that they began to do it so early in the game. He no longer felt guilty that he had deceived Honey, for had n't her confession that she had deceived him about putting that money in the bank made them co-sinners? And one does n't feel so sinful when sinning against another sinner!
Ninety dollars! Gee whiz! But, after all, ninety dollars was n't such an awful lot of money – and he'd see to it that ninety dollars was the limit!
CHAPTER III
SKINNER'S DRESS SUIT
Honey went to the city with Skinner the next day, and during the lunch-hour a high-class tailor in the financial district measured Skinner for his dress suit. Honey had sensed from Dearie's protest the night of the "raise" that it would be hard to pry him loose from any more cash than the first ninety dollars, so she did n't try to – with words. She would let him convince himself. So, when the wonderful outfit arrived a few days later, and Skinner put it on, she pretended to admire the whole effect unqualifiedly.
"Beautiful!" she cried; "perfectly beautiful!"
But she chuckled to herself as she noted the look of perplexity that gradually came into Skinner's eyes as he regarded himself in the mirror.
"These clothes are very handsome," he said presently, "and they're a perfect fit – but the general effect does n't seem right."
Honey remained discreetly silent.
Presently Skinner turned to her with a suggestion of trouble in his eyes. "Say, Honey, what do dress shirts cost?"
"I don't know exactly. Four dollars, perhaps."
"Four dollars!" There was a suggestion of a snarl in Skinner's tone, the first she'd ever heard. "Four dollars! – the one I've got on only cost ninety cents."
"But that is n't a dress shirt, Dearie."
"No, you bet it is n't! But it's good enough for me!" Then with a touch of sarcasm in his tone, "I suppose a certain kind of collar and tie are necessary for a dress shirt?"
"A dollar would cover that."
"How many collars?" he almost shouted.
"One."
Another pause; then, "I've got to have studs?"
Honey nodded.
Another pause. "And, holy smoke, cuff-buttons? Say, where do we get off?"
"They 're not expensive, Dearie."
"But have you any idea how much?" he insisted.
"Four dollars ought to cover that."
"By gosh! Well, I guess that's all," he said quietly. Just then he glanced down at his shoes. "It is n't necessary to have patent leathers, too?" he appealed.
"It's customary, Dearie, but not absolutely necessary."
"People don't see your feet in a reception like that," he urged.
Honey smiled. "They might without difficulty, Dearie, if you chanced to walk across the floor in some vacant space. Remember, you're not in the subway where everybody stands on them and hides them."
"Don't be funny," said Skinner. "Mine are only in proportion. How much? That's the question, while we're at it – how much?"
"You know the price of men's shoes better than I do, Dearie."
"I saw some patent leathers on Cortlandt Street at three dollars and a half."
"Those were n't patent leathers – only pasteboard. They'd fall to pieces if the night happened to be moist. And you'd reach the party barefooted. Think of it, Dearie, going in with a dress suit on and bare feet!"
Her giggle irritated Skinner.
"It may be very funny to you but – how much? That's the question!"
"Not more than six dollars for the best."
"I see," said Skinner, making an effort to be calm. "Silk hosiery?"
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