I believe in my soul they'll git spoiled here in New York.

I kin see a change in 'em a'ready--in the girls." Dryfoos stretched himself on the lounge again.

"I can't see as Coonrod is much comfort, either.

Why ain't he here with his sisters?
What does all that work of his on the East Side amount to?
It seems as if he done it to cross me, as much as anything." Dryfoos complained to his wife on the basis of mere affectional habit, which in married life often survives the sense of intellectual equality.

He did not expect her to reason with him, but there was help in her listening, and though she could only soothe his fretfulness with soft answers which were often wide of the purpose, he still went to her for solace.