I told you a while ago that if men seen their wives play poker before they was married they wouldn’t be married. Well, I believe that even if Mrs. Quinn had showed off her knowledge o’ the game to Harry when they was still engaged yet, he’d of gone through with it, anyway. He wouldn’t knew no better. He’s an exception to the rule, and to every other rule in the book.
Listen to what he had to say when he stormed my desk next mornin’:
“Did you ever see a girl like her! The first time she ever really played, and she cops most o’ the dough! I never seen anybody that picked things up so quick.”
“She certainly picked up most o’ the change,” says I.
“Old man,” he says, “she’s a wonder! The best little wife a man ever had!”
So my hands is still shakin’ and my teeth’s still grindin’, and I bite the sheets at night. The grand old game has failed me and Dame Nature’s workin’ far too slow. I must think up somethin’ else; somethin’ swift, sure, fatal!