Post by gemglitter on Feb 20, 2011 14:24:44 GMT -5
1906 Douglas, AZ
“Marry me?” Fredrick asked on bended knee.
“Yes,” Mary whispered sitting on the rose sofa. She looked toward her proud father, standing by the white fireplace in their living room.
“Of course my daughter will marry you Frederick!” he rushed to him and helped him up. “Of course she will marry a New York up-and-coming lawyer!”
Fredrick’s shoulders dropped, yet he still managed a smile. He took a look around the room. Light ivory drapes framed the large window that looked out to the city park; desert sun poured in, its warmth on his body added to his discomfort. Sweat poured down his neck. The two wooden shelves at the far end of the room along with the coffee table and the black piano contrasted with the white walls and the cherry tinged sofas. Mary sat on the couch in a blush dress with a matching bow covering most of her head. She stared at her diamond engagement ring. He sat down next to her. He could smell the delicate scent of lavender from her perfume. Fredrick leaned in to kiss her cheek, she leaned away blushing.
Fredrick caught the maid’s emerald eyes staring at him while she poured the coffee. She winked at him.
#
The bartender’s 6’6, wrestler build body towered over Fredrick’s city boy lank. Fredrick gulped down his whiskey. “I just got engaged.” The whole night Fredrick had been avoiding the other patrons: the miners, gamblers, Mexicans, and the whores. Two more months of existing in this dust hole was hell. He looked around and even the color of the people was fifty percent dirt. The saloon music, slobbering laughter, and clinks of glass formed a swirling tune with another gulp. “She’s a virgin,” Fredrick spluttered.
“What’s the girl’s name?” The bartender asked refilling his glass, the overflow pooled on the bar.
“Mary Green,” Fredrick said.
“Are you a virgin boy?”
Fredrick pushed himself off the bar stool. “No sir, I love women! It’s like… like they’re the air you breathe!”
“Visit many whore houses?”
Fredrick belched. “My man…my friends and I…can write you an a-na-to-my book-inside and out-of a woman!”
The bartender glanced at the whore leading a gentleman up the stairs. “You’ve never had one of ours,” he said.
#
He’d asked for the best, but the room was similar to the other brothel rooms he’d been in. Musky perfume, cheap whiskey, and left over cigar smoke lingered in the air. Dark drapes, worn out furniture, a black dressing shade and a three mirrored dresser with a gold necklace and some bullets gave personality to his token whore. The instantly sobering detail was the woman leaning on the wrought iron headboard. Her bare legs one on top of the other, the black shear robe began to cover mid thigh up, stopping were her ruby corset began. One hand draped upon her hip, the other held a matching red feather fan. Her brown hair cascaded down over her body, stopping beneath her entrapped breasts. Red lips, white skin…a black cat mask jarred his admiration, covering from her upper lip up. Golden filigree out lined her eyes.
“Take off the mask,” he said.
She fanned herself. “No,” she stated.
“I pay, I say what goes.”
She smiled. “No.”
Fredrick took one step towards her. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean that you’re free to leave.” She pointed with her fan towards the door. I have many a John waiting for their turn.”
“Why are you wearing a mask?”
She grabbed onto the bed frame and stretched her shoulders back, her breasts almost escaping the corset. “I was burned in a fire.”
Fredrick for the life of him couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “I don’t want to pay for damaged goods.”
“Don’t worry,” she laughed. “The first time is free.”
“Free?”
“Yes, every time after that its fifty dollars, cash.”
“At that price, why would I come back?”
“Because,” she said standing up. Slowly she unclasped the first hook in eye of her corset. Each step she took toward Fredrick, she undid another. His eyes transfixed at the emerging plump flesh. “You get what you pay for.”
#
“How are the wedding plans going?” Fredrick asked.
“It’s going to be wonderful,” Mary said pouring him coffee.
Silence. Three weeks had passed since their engagement and there were more brief periods of silence than there was conversation.
“So….” Fredrick said. Mary looked at her coffee cup. “That was a delicious dinner you made.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was a soft hum.
“Well….” Fredrick shook her hand. “It’s been a lovely evening.” Handing him his coat, the maid whispered in his ear, “Goodnight…Freddy”
#
“So are you planning to untie me?” Fredrick asked tugging at the black scarves holding him to the bed. Ever since that one night, he’d gone back to Esmeralda, but he was surprised that he spent more time talking with her than f**k**g her.
Esmeralda stood at the front of the bed wearing a black petticoat, stringing up her amethyst corset. Unlike the girls who remained naked she knew that the best part of a gift was unwrapping it. “…No,” she laughed.
“I can very easily get these off, you know?”
She shrugged. “Then by all means.” He watched as with each tug of the corset string, her body became hidden. With a final tug, she tied a graceful bow. He knew that the knots restraining him would no more untie, than that bow. “Are you finally getting excited about your wedding?” she asked.
“More nerves than excitement, but that’s normal.”
“Freddy, you’re afraid.”
“Not afraid! More lament full.”
“Lament full, of what?”
“My freedom: no more drinking, no more women…just home!”
“Ha!” she laughed. “I have plenty of married Johns.”
“I am not going to be like your other married Johns.” Fredrick sighed “…like my father,” he whispered.
“Fathers,” she sighed sitting on the bed braiding her hair to one side. “Sometimes you have to pay for their sins.”
Fredrick tugged at his restraints. He became aware of the clothed Esmeralda and his naked body beneath the sheet. “I’m not paying for his sins, I just don’t want to commit my own.”
She looked at him. “Then why are you here with me?”
#
Sitting on the sofa, sipping his whiskey listening to Mary play the piano, he couldn’t figure out how he felt. Watching her, she’d never been so alive. Back and forth she moved, the music flowed through her entire body…watching the music play out on her face. Her midnight blue eyes stared off into the ceiling. He noticed the softness of her pink lips, the way her long lashes curled, the small scar beneath her eye. He imagined their life together. He knew she’d keep a good home for him, bare him a healthy son. He smiled closing his eyes and listened. The music lulled him. Images of Esmeralda dance through his mind, her long legs, her laughter, and the salty taste of her skin. Opening his eyes, he found the maid’s green eyes. He winked at her.
#
Esmeralda lay fanning herself with a sapphire fan, residue sweat on her crown. He sat on the bed. “I wish you could hear her play the piano. She’s the best I’ve ever heard!”
Esmeralda moved beside him. “So, are you excited to marry her?”
He looked at her, her mask hiding more than any piece of clothing could. He reached for it, the satin fabric beneath his finger tips. She grabbed his hand, holding it for a moment. “May I ask you something?” he asked. She nodded. “Why are you a Saloon girl?”
Esmeralda got up and sat down on the floor next to her door. “Freedom,” she sighed.
Fredrick got up and sat next to her. “Freedom?”
“Do you know how it feels not to be able to say what you want, to speak how I want?”
A New York lawyer is not what he wanted to be, it’s what his father wanted. “Yes.”
“No you don’t!” She stands. “If I were one of your society’s women, I would have to be escorted down the street. My tone is too loud, my friends too obscene, my point of view too wild, my appearance too vulgar! So tell me, if I weren’t a whore, where would my freedom be?”
“I…I….”
“Look, I know I can’t be a saloon girl all my life, I don’t intend to. I will marry someday, have the white wedding, the children. But, when my daughter is at a marrying age and she asks me what she should do with her life, I want to tell her to do whatever the hell she wants! And , when she asks me if I ever had the freedom to do what I wanted, I can look her in the eyes and say, yes.”
#
Standing at the back of the saloon he searched for Esmeralda. He didn’t know what was louder in this outdoor organized chaos, the laughter or the music. He spotted the band, a cello, trumpet, and guitar. There’s a man standing on a chair, balancing a tequila bottle in a corner of the yard. Various other people stomped their feet to the music, raising a veil of dust. The disgusting sight for him was the other dancers. Dancing cheek to cheek, chest to breast, hip to hip, some men even had a woman in one arm and in the other draped over her with their liquor bottle. He brushed off some dust from his black coat tailed tuxedo.
He spotted Esmeralda, in a red bustled gown, dancing with a Mexican. Her hair pinned back, with a few red feathers holding a black lace veil that reaches to her nose. Watching them, her dance partner leaned into her, Fredrick fists tightened. The man lifted her veil and put his cheek to her bare one.
“Freddy!” Esmeralda said spotting him. She kissed the Mexican and went to him. “’I’m so glad you came!”
“You weren’t lonely,” Fredrick said.
He felt her strong hand interlocking with his. “Let’s go for a walk.” They went through a side gate and ended up at the front of the saloon. Walking in silence for a few blocks he brushes his thumb over hers.
“My wedding is next week,” he said.
Esmeralda doesn’t look at him. “I know.”
“Do you think we will ever see each other again, once I leave for New York?”
“No,” she sighed.
“Why don’t you come with me to New York?” he asked.
“What?” She stopped in her tracks.
“Yes, you can come with me to New York.” Fredrick couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of this before. “I have more than enough money to set you up in an apartment. And you won’t ever have to set foot in a saloon again… because you know you were just joking about getting married.”
Esmeralda let his hand drop. “I thought you were a one woman man?”
“That’s just a detail,” he laughed.
“Why don’t you marry me?”
Fredrick blinked. “Because I’m going to marry, Mary.”
She bowed her head. “Why are you marrying her?”
A memory of his father bringing home one of his token whores popped into his mind. “Because I have to.”
“Do you love her?”
“She will make a great wife.”
“Say that you love her!”
Fredrick wiped beads of sweat from his brow. “What are you saying?”
“You don’t have to marry anybody!” Esmeralda folded her arms. “Say it, I need to hear it.”
Fredrick backed up. “I… I….”
“Say, ‘I love her’.”
“I don’t!” He tried taking her hand. “But… you wouldn’t understand.”
“Why?” Esmeralda asked. Fredrick bit his lip, his heart pounded against his chest. “Why Freddy?”
“Because…because you’re a…a—“
“Because I’m a whore,” she whispered. Neither of them moved. Esmeralda took a deep breath. “So what, you intend to rescue me with your little plan?” She walked away.
He grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong?”
She turned and slapped him, tears silently rolled down her face. “Don’t ever touch me again!”
#
Fredrick knocked on Esmeralda’s door. He had just come from the church where he was supposed to get married with Mary, but instead when the priest asked him if he took Mary as his wife he said, “No.”
“Not tonight!” Esmeralda said. He checked the door, it wasn’t locked. “Leave!” He stepped in. His eyes scanned the room. Behind the dressing shade he heard muffled sobs. Looking at the open bottom of the dressing shade he saw a very familiar color, ivory. “Get the f**k out!” Fredrick inched toward the crying, a shiver swept over him. There behind the shade, stood a disheveled girl in Esmeralda’s room, wearing Mary’s wedding gown and veil. “Fredrick!” she growled punching him. Numb to any pain he just stood there. “Get out!”
He lifted the veil. There stood tear stained Mary with her small scar beneath her glaring eyes. “Wh…what?” he stuttered. His numbness began to fade into trembling, sweat dripping, fist clenching rage.
Shoving him out of her way she screamed. “What!” She ripped her veil from her head.
A tear escaped his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”
Esmeralda faced him. “GET OUT!”
“What the HELL is going on?”
“Get-the-f**k- out!”
Fredrick picked up the lace veil from the ground and flung it at her. He grabbed the dressing shade and slammed it on the bed, charged to her side and grabbed her. “What the hell is going on!”
“I was everything…everything you wanted from a woman! Wasn’t I?” Her blue eyes pierced through her tears, he let her go as if he was holding a hot skillet.
Fredrick sat down on the bed and stared at the girl in front of him. “What?”
“Why couldn’t you marry me?
“Who are you?”
Her breathing echoed in the silent room. “I’m a caring daughter.”
“Excuse me?”
“My father was a gambler, he had too many debts and not enough money…I came one night and asked if there was anything I could do to save our home and his life.”
“So you became a saloon girl?”
“Yes.”
Fredrick hands still trembled. “How long ago was this?”
“A few years.”
“Are you still paying?” he asked.
“No.”
“Why are you still here?”
She closes his eyes and a faint smile appeared on her face. “…freedom—“
“f**k freedom! People must have known¬¬—”
Her eyes shot open with a fire in them. “Did you? Did you ever look at me…at Mary long enough to ever see her?”
Fredrick stood up. “Who are you?” She rocked slightly. “Who are you?”
“…This.” She wiped a rolling tear then shrugged. “Why didn’t you marry me?”
“Because I didn’t love Mary.” He took off her diamond ring. From his pocket he pulled out an emerald ring and slipped it onto her finger.
“Marry me?” Fredrick asked on bended knee.
“Yes,” Mary whispered sitting on the rose sofa. She looked toward her proud father, standing by the white fireplace in their living room.
“Of course my daughter will marry you Frederick!” he rushed to him and helped him up. “Of course she will marry a New York up-and-coming lawyer!”
Fredrick’s shoulders dropped, yet he still managed a smile. He took a look around the room. Light ivory drapes framed the large window that looked out to the city park; desert sun poured in, its warmth on his body added to his discomfort. Sweat poured down his neck. The two wooden shelves at the far end of the room along with the coffee table and the black piano contrasted with the white walls and the cherry tinged sofas. Mary sat on the couch in a blush dress with a matching bow covering most of her head. She stared at her diamond engagement ring. He sat down next to her. He could smell the delicate scent of lavender from her perfume. Fredrick leaned in to kiss her cheek, she leaned away blushing.
Fredrick caught the maid’s emerald eyes staring at him while she poured the coffee. She winked at him.
#
The bartender’s 6’6, wrestler build body towered over Fredrick’s city boy lank. Fredrick gulped down his whiskey. “I just got engaged.” The whole night Fredrick had been avoiding the other patrons: the miners, gamblers, Mexicans, and the whores. Two more months of existing in this dust hole was hell. He looked around and even the color of the people was fifty percent dirt. The saloon music, slobbering laughter, and clinks of glass formed a swirling tune with another gulp. “She’s a virgin,” Fredrick spluttered.
“What’s the girl’s name?” The bartender asked refilling his glass, the overflow pooled on the bar.
“Mary Green,” Fredrick said.
“Are you a virgin boy?”
Fredrick pushed himself off the bar stool. “No sir, I love women! It’s like… like they’re the air you breathe!”
“Visit many whore houses?”
Fredrick belched. “My man…my friends and I…can write you an a-na-to-my book-inside and out-of a woman!”
The bartender glanced at the whore leading a gentleman up the stairs. “You’ve never had one of ours,” he said.
#
He’d asked for the best, but the room was similar to the other brothel rooms he’d been in. Musky perfume, cheap whiskey, and left over cigar smoke lingered in the air. Dark drapes, worn out furniture, a black dressing shade and a three mirrored dresser with a gold necklace and some bullets gave personality to his token whore. The instantly sobering detail was the woman leaning on the wrought iron headboard. Her bare legs one on top of the other, the black shear robe began to cover mid thigh up, stopping were her ruby corset began. One hand draped upon her hip, the other held a matching red feather fan. Her brown hair cascaded down over her body, stopping beneath her entrapped breasts. Red lips, white skin…a black cat mask jarred his admiration, covering from her upper lip up. Golden filigree out lined her eyes.
“Take off the mask,” he said.
She fanned herself. “No,” she stated.
“I pay, I say what goes.”
She smiled. “No.”
Fredrick took one step towards her. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean that you’re free to leave.” She pointed with her fan towards the door. I have many a John waiting for their turn.”
“Why are you wearing a mask?”
She grabbed onto the bed frame and stretched her shoulders back, her breasts almost escaping the corset. “I was burned in a fire.”
Fredrick for the life of him couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “I don’t want to pay for damaged goods.”
“Don’t worry,” she laughed. “The first time is free.”
“Free?”
“Yes, every time after that its fifty dollars, cash.”
“At that price, why would I come back?”
“Because,” she said standing up. Slowly she unclasped the first hook in eye of her corset. Each step she took toward Fredrick, she undid another. His eyes transfixed at the emerging plump flesh. “You get what you pay for.”
#
“How are the wedding plans going?” Fredrick asked.
“It’s going to be wonderful,” Mary said pouring him coffee.
Silence. Three weeks had passed since their engagement and there were more brief periods of silence than there was conversation.
“So….” Fredrick said. Mary looked at her coffee cup. “That was a delicious dinner you made.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was a soft hum.
“Well….” Fredrick shook her hand. “It’s been a lovely evening.” Handing him his coat, the maid whispered in his ear, “Goodnight…Freddy”
#
“So are you planning to untie me?” Fredrick asked tugging at the black scarves holding him to the bed. Ever since that one night, he’d gone back to Esmeralda, but he was surprised that he spent more time talking with her than f**k**g her.
Esmeralda stood at the front of the bed wearing a black petticoat, stringing up her amethyst corset. Unlike the girls who remained naked she knew that the best part of a gift was unwrapping it. “…No,” she laughed.
“I can very easily get these off, you know?”
She shrugged. “Then by all means.” He watched as with each tug of the corset string, her body became hidden. With a final tug, she tied a graceful bow. He knew that the knots restraining him would no more untie, than that bow. “Are you finally getting excited about your wedding?” she asked.
“More nerves than excitement, but that’s normal.”
“Freddy, you’re afraid.”
“Not afraid! More lament full.”
“Lament full, of what?”
“My freedom: no more drinking, no more women…just home!”
“Ha!” she laughed. “I have plenty of married Johns.”
“I am not going to be like your other married Johns.” Fredrick sighed “…like my father,” he whispered.
“Fathers,” she sighed sitting on the bed braiding her hair to one side. “Sometimes you have to pay for their sins.”
Fredrick tugged at his restraints. He became aware of the clothed Esmeralda and his naked body beneath the sheet. “I’m not paying for his sins, I just don’t want to commit my own.”
She looked at him. “Then why are you here with me?”
#
Sitting on the sofa, sipping his whiskey listening to Mary play the piano, he couldn’t figure out how he felt. Watching her, she’d never been so alive. Back and forth she moved, the music flowed through her entire body…watching the music play out on her face. Her midnight blue eyes stared off into the ceiling. He noticed the softness of her pink lips, the way her long lashes curled, the small scar beneath her eye. He imagined their life together. He knew she’d keep a good home for him, bare him a healthy son. He smiled closing his eyes and listened. The music lulled him. Images of Esmeralda dance through his mind, her long legs, her laughter, and the salty taste of her skin. Opening his eyes, he found the maid’s green eyes. He winked at her.
#
Esmeralda lay fanning herself with a sapphire fan, residue sweat on her crown. He sat on the bed. “I wish you could hear her play the piano. She’s the best I’ve ever heard!”
Esmeralda moved beside him. “So, are you excited to marry her?”
He looked at her, her mask hiding more than any piece of clothing could. He reached for it, the satin fabric beneath his finger tips. She grabbed his hand, holding it for a moment. “May I ask you something?” he asked. She nodded. “Why are you a Saloon girl?”
Esmeralda got up and sat down on the floor next to her door. “Freedom,” she sighed.
Fredrick got up and sat next to her. “Freedom?”
“Do you know how it feels not to be able to say what you want, to speak how I want?”
A New York lawyer is not what he wanted to be, it’s what his father wanted. “Yes.”
“No you don’t!” She stands. “If I were one of your society’s women, I would have to be escorted down the street. My tone is too loud, my friends too obscene, my point of view too wild, my appearance too vulgar! So tell me, if I weren’t a whore, where would my freedom be?”
“I…I….”
“Look, I know I can’t be a saloon girl all my life, I don’t intend to. I will marry someday, have the white wedding, the children. But, when my daughter is at a marrying age and she asks me what she should do with her life, I want to tell her to do whatever the hell she wants! And , when she asks me if I ever had the freedom to do what I wanted, I can look her in the eyes and say, yes.”
#
Standing at the back of the saloon he searched for Esmeralda. He didn’t know what was louder in this outdoor organized chaos, the laughter or the music. He spotted the band, a cello, trumpet, and guitar. There’s a man standing on a chair, balancing a tequila bottle in a corner of the yard. Various other people stomped their feet to the music, raising a veil of dust. The disgusting sight for him was the other dancers. Dancing cheek to cheek, chest to breast, hip to hip, some men even had a woman in one arm and in the other draped over her with their liquor bottle. He brushed off some dust from his black coat tailed tuxedo.
He spotted Esmeralda, in a red bustled gown, dancing with a Mexican. Her hair pinned back, with a few red feathers holding a black lace veil that reaches to her nose. Watching them, her dance partner leaned into her, Fredrick fists tightened. The man lifted her veil and put his cheek to her bare one.
“Freddy!” Esmeralda said spotting him. She kissed the Mexican and went to him. “’I’m so glad you came!”
“You weren’t lonely,” Fredrick said.
He felt her strong hand interlocking with his. “Let’s go for a walk.” They went through a side gate and ended up at the front of the saloon. Walking in silence for a few blocks he brushes his thumb over hers.
“My wedding is next week,” he said.
Esmeralda doesn’t look at him. “I know.”
“Do you think we will ever see each other again, once I leave for New York?”
“No,” she sighed.
“Why don’t you come with me to New York?” he asked.
“What?” She stopped in her tracks.
“Yes, you can come with me to New York.” Fredrick couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of this before. “I have more than enough money to set you up in an apartment. And you won’t ever have to set foot in a saloon again… because you know you were just joking about getting married.”
Esmeralda let his hand drop. “I thought you were a one woman man?”
“That’s just a detail,” he laughed.
“Why don’t you marry me?”
Fredrick blinked. “Because I’m going to marry, Mary.”
She bowed her head. “Why are you marrying her?”
A memory of his father bringing home one of his token whores popped into his mind. “Because I have to.”
“Do you love her?”
“She will make a great wife.”
“Say that you love her!”
Fredrick wiped beads of sweat from his brow. “What are you saying?”
“You don’t have to marry anybody!” Esmeralda folded her arms. “Say it, I need to hear it.”
Fredrick backed up. “I… I….”
“Say, ‘I love her’.”
“I don’t!” He tried taking her hand. “But… you wouldn’t understand.”
“Why?” Esmeralda asked. Fredrick bit his lip, his heart pounded against his chest. “Why Freddy?”
“Because…because you’re a…a—“
“Because I’m a whore,” she whispered. Neither of them moved. Esmeralda took a deep breath. “So what, you intend to rescue me with your little plan?” She walked away.
He grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong?”
She turned and slapped him, tears silently rolled down her face. “Don’t ever touch me again!”
#
Fredrick knocked on Esmeralda’s door. He had just come from the church where he was supposed to get married with Mary, but instead when the priest asked him if he took Mary as his wife he said, “No.”
“Not tonight!” Esmeralda said. He checked the door, it wasn’t locked. “Leave!” He stepped in. His eyes scanned the room. Behind the dressing shade he heard muffled sobs. Looking at the open bottom of the dressing shade he saw a very familiar color, ivory. “Get the f**k out!” Fredrick inched toward the crying, a shiver swept over him. There behind the shade, stood a disheveled girl in Esmeralda’s room, wearing Mary’s wedding gown and veil. “Fredrick!” she growled punching him. Numb to any pain he just stood there. “Get out!”
He lifted the veil. There stood tear stained Mary with her small scar beneath her glaring eyes. “Wh…what?” he stuttered. His numbness began to fade into trembling, sweat dripping, fist clenching rage.
Shoving him out of her way she screamed. “What!” She ripped her veil from her head.
A tear escaped his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”
Esmeralda faced him. “GET OUT!”
“What the HELL is going on?”
“Get-the-f**k- out!”
Fredrick picked up the lace veil from the ground and flung it at her. He grabbed the dressing shade and slammed it on the bed, charged to her side and grabbed her. “What the hell is going on!”
“I was everything…everything you wanted from a woman! Wasn’t I?” Her blue eyes pierced through her tears, he let her go as if he was holding a hot skillet.
Fredrick sat down on the bed and stared at the girl in front of him. “What?”
“Why couldn’t you marry me?
“Who are you?”
Her breathing echoed in the silent room. “I’m a caring daughter.”
“Excuse me?”
“My father was a gambler, he had too many debts and not enough money…I came one night and asked if there was anything I could do to save our home and his life.”
“So you became a saloon girl?”
“Yes.”
Fredrick hands still trembled. “How long ago was this?”
“A few years.”
“Are you still paying?” he asked.
“No.”
“Why are you still here?”
She closes his eyes and a faint smile appeared on her face. “…freedom—“
“f**k freedom! People must have known¬¬—”
Her eyes shot open with a fire in them. “Did you? Did you ever look at me…at Mary long enough to ever see her?”
Fredrick stood up. “Who are you?” She rocked slightly. “Who are you?”
“…This.” She wiped a rolling tear then shrugged. “Why didn’t you marry me?”
“Because I didn’t love Mary.” He took off her diamond ring. From his pocket he pulled out an emerald ring and slipped it onto her finger.