Gigolo by Edna Ferber Chapter 6 Page 12

War. He had never seen a mountain. The ocean meant Coney Island. He breakfasted at Child’s. He spent two hours over the Sunday papers. He was a Tittlebat Titmouse without the whiskers. And Myra loved him.

If Florian had not pretended to be something he wasn’t; and if he had not professed an enthusiastic knowledge of things of which he was ignorant, he would, in the natural course of events, have loved Myra quickly in return. In fact, he would have admitted that he had loved her first, and desperately. And there would have been no story entitled, “Ain’t Nature Wonderful!”

Myra worked in the women’s and misses’, third floor, and she didn’t care a thing about the big outdoors or the great open spaces. She didn’t even pretend to — at