"Gee, that was luck. What about the job?"
"That sounds good. I have to go see the fellow tomorrow. I'm going to sell this car, Lil, I just decided. You don't mind, do you?"
"No, but I think you're foolish. Why don't you sell the Packard? You'll get more money for it, and the roadster will be cheaper for us to run."
"Now we've been over that a dozen times. I'm not going to sell the Packard."
"All right."
"Well, I'm going to see about selling this car now. Want to go with me?"
"No. I have to go to the stores. You'll be home for dinner, won't you?"
"Sure."
"See you later."
Lillian walked over to Dyckman Street. She passed the butcher shop where she used to deal and turned her head away. She was always afraid that the butcher would come running out and ask her why she didn't deal with him any more. He'd been a very obliging butcher and he had good meat, only it was expensive. Down below Post Avenue was her new butcher. His store was one of a chain and he was only employed there. He brought you meat out of the ice-box already chopped. He never let you pick out your own beef and watch him chop it right before your eyes.
She bought three lamb chops today. Hubert could always eat two. She had potatoes. A can of peas, a loaf of bread, and a half-dozen eggs. What was all the conniving for? She had forgotten that Hubert was selling
