“Well,” Emma Lou returned vehemently, “it’s the last time I’ll ever go to that place any kind of way.”
Alva hadn’t expected this. “What’s the matter with you?”
“You're always taking me some place, or placing me in some position where I'll be insulted.”
“Insulted?” This was far beyond Alva. Who on earth had insulted her and when. “But,” he paused, then advanced cautiously, “Sugar, I don’t know what you mean.”
Emma Lou was ready for a quarrel. In fact she had been trying to pick one with him ever since the night she had gone to that house-rent party, and the landlady had asked her to move on the following day. Alva’s curt refusal of her proposal that they live together had hurt her far more than he had imagined. Somehow or other he didn’t think she could be so serious about the matter, especially upon such short notice. But Emma Lou had been so certain that he would be as excited over the suggestion as she had been that she hadn’t considered meeting a definite refusal. Then the finding of a room had been irritating to contemplate. She couldn’t have called it irritating of accomplishment because Alva had done that for her. She had told him on Sunday morning that she had to move and by Sunday night he had found a place for her. She had to admit that he had
