"No, she isn't," Minnie replied, as she rushed off toward the kitchen.
"She's gone."

Morris hung up his coat and made his perfunctory toilet without another
word. Despite Minnie's pathetic appearance, there was a dangerous gleam
in her eyes that urged Morris to the exercise of the most delicate
marital diplomacy.

"What a soup!" he exclaimed, as he subjected the first spoonful to a
long, gurgling inhalation. "If they got such soup as this at the
Waldorf, Minnie _leben_, I bet yer the least they would soak you for it
is a dollar."

Following the soup came boiled brisket, a dish that Morris loathed.
Ordinarily Morris would have eaten it with sulky diffidence, but when
Minnie bore the steaming dish from the kitchen he not only jumped from
his seat to take it from her hands, but after he had deposited it on the
table he kissed her on the forehead with lover-like delicacy.

"How did you know I am thinking all the way up on the subway if Minnie
would only got _Brustdeckel_ for supper for a change what a treat it
would be?" he said.

Minnie's glum face broke into a smile and Morris fairly beamed.

"What do you bother your head so about a girl leaves you, Minnie
_leben_," he cried. "You could get plenty of girls. On Lenox Avenue a
feller could break his neck already falling over girls which is hanging
around looking for jobs."