I Married A Dead Man Read Online Free PDF Page B

hissed with an explosive sibilance, and executed an agitated series of twists, turns, and drops on the seat, as though this were something vital that had to be acted upon immediately. "Hurry up! Now! Now's our chance. Get a move on. Before somebody else gets there ahead of us. There's a fat woman three seats down been taking her things out little by little. If she ever gets in first, we're sunk!" Carried away by her own excitement (and everything in life, to her, seemed to be deliciously, titillatingly exciting), she even went so far as to give her seat-mate a little push and urge her: "Run! Hold the door for us. Maybe if she sees you there already, she'll change her mind."
                    She prodded her relaxed spouse cruelly and heartlessly in a great many places at once, to bring him back to awareness.
                    "Quick! Hugh! The overnight-case! We'll lose our chance. Up there, stupid. Up there on the rack--"
                    "All right, take it easy," the somnolent Hugh grunted, eyes still completely buried under his obliterating hat-brim. "Talk, talk, talk, Yattatta, yattatta, yattatta. Woman is born to exercise her jaw."
                    "Man is born to get a poke on his, if he doesn't get a move on."
                    He finally pushed his hat back out of the way. "What do you want from me now? You got it down yourself."
                    "Well, get your big legs out of the way and let us by! You're blocking the way--"
                    He executed a sort of drawbridge maneuver, folding his legs back to himself, hugging them, then stretching them out again after the passage had been accomplished.
                    "Where y'going, in such a hurry?" he asked innocently.
                    "Now, isn't that stupid?" commented Patrice to her companion.
                    The two of them went almost running down the aisle, without bothering to enlighten him further.
                    "He takes a thirty-six sleeve, and it doesn't do me a bit of good in an emergency," she complained en route, swinging the kit.
                    He had turned his head to watch them curiously, and in perfectly sincere incomprehension. Then he went, "Oh." Understanding their destination now, if not the turmoil attendant on it. Then he pulled his hat down to his nose again, to resume his fractured slumbers where they had been broken off by this feminine logistical upheaval.
                    Patrice had closed the chromium door after the two of them, meanwhile, and given its inside lock-control a little twist of defiant exclusion. Then she let out a deep breath. "There. We're in. And possession is nine-tenths of the law. I'm going to take as long as I want," she announced determinedly, setting down the overnight-case and unlatching its lid. "If anybody else wants to get in, they'll just have to wait. There's only room enough for two anyway. And even so, they have to be awfully good friends."
                    "We're nearly the last ones still up, anyway," Helen said.
                    "Here, have some?" Patrice was bringing up a fleecy fistful of facial tissues from the case; she divided them with her friend.
                    "I missed these an awful lot on the Other Side. Couldn't get them for love nor money. I used to ask and ask, and they didn't know what I meant--"
                    She stopped and eyed her companion. "Oh, you have nothing to rub off, have you? Well, here, rub some of this on; then you'll have that to rub off."
                    Helen laughed. "You make me feel so giddy," she said with a wistful sort of admiration.
                    Patrice hunched her shoulders and grimaced impishly. "It's my last fling, sort of. From tomorrow night on I may have to be