"
Daisy passed Joe's corner every morning and evening.
"Hello, Two-by-Four!" was her usual greeting. "Seems to me your store
looks emptier. You must have sold a pack of chewing gum."
"Ain't much room in here, sure," Joe would answer, with his slow grin,
"except for you, Daise. Me and the store are waitin' for you whenever
you'll take us. Don't you think you might before long?"
"Store!"--a fine scorn was expressed by Daisy's uptilted nose--"sardine
box! Waitin' for me, you say? Gee! you'd have to throw out about a
hundred pounds of candy before I could get inside of it, Joe."
"I wouldn't mind an even swap like that," said Joe, complimentary.
Daisy's existence was limited in every way. She had to walk sideways
between the counter and the shelves in the candy store. In her own hall
bedroom coziness had been carried close to cohesiveness. The walls were
so near to one another that the paper on them made a perfect Babel of
noise. She could light the gas with one hand and close the door with the
other without taking her eyes off the reflection of her brown pompadour
in the mirror. She had Joe's picture in a gilt frame on the dresser, and
sometimes--but her next thought would always be of Joe's funny little
store tacked like a soap box to the corner of that great building, and
away would go her sentiment in a breeze of laughter.
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