"No doubt," said Edna. "He's not crazy about me now; so I guess I'd better wait till you start to get slim before asking you over to dinner."
"It won't be that bad," said Dot, seriously. "I'll keep my job, and Eddie gets a nice salary. I'll bet it'll be grand."
"Well, if it ain't," said Edna, "it won't be because you looked on the dark side."
The coffee and pie arrived. Coffee in heavy mugs. Pie, a generous chunk with the crust lying loosely above the thickened mess of peaches. Edna picked up her fork with a brisk, businesslike gesture. Dot was less interested. After all, this was the eve of her wedding.
The pie disappeared. The coffee lingered.
"Edna," said Dot, "was the night you got married the first time Marty ever touched you? You know what I mean."
"Yes, and we'd kept company for three years."
"You were good, weren't you? Better than me."
"But I'm sorry now. Look how short a time I had him."
"Tough, Edna! Gee, it must be awful. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to Eddie."
Edna looked over at Dot's very young, very solemn face.
"You'd stand it, Kid. You'd be surprised what these old beans of ours will stand. But you probably won't lose him unless a blonde comes along."
The cue was given. It was time for the conversation to jump back to pointless pleasantries, but Dot still had another momentous comment which had to be made.
"I'd kill him if there ever was another woman," she said. "I might even kill them both."
Edna was happily absorbed in watching her empty plate. "Some more pie, Dot?" she suggested.
"No, I got enough pie. Sure, I'd kill the both of them."
Edna got up from the table. "Come on, Dot," she said.
