She was married to Mr. Schwirtz about two weeks later.

Sec. 3

She had got herself to call him "Ed." ... "Eddie" she could not
encompass, even in that fortnight of rushing change and bewilderment.

She asked for a honeymoon trip to Savannah. She wanted to rest; she had
to rest or she would break, she said.

They went to Savannah, to the live-oaks and palmettoes and quiet old
squares.

But she did not rest. Always she brooded about the unleashed brutality
of their first night on the steamer, the strong, inescapable man-smell
of his neck and shoulders, the boisterous jokes he kept telling her.

He insisted on their staying at a commercial hotel at Savannah. Whenever
she went to lie down, which was frequently, he played poker and drank
highballs. He tried in his sincerest way to amuse her. He took her to
theaters, restaurants, road-houses. He arranged a three days'
hunting-trip, with a darky cook. He hired motor-boats and motor-cars and
told her every "here's a new one," that he heard. But she dreaded his
casual-seeming suggestions that she drink plenty of champagne; dreaded
his complaints, whiney as a small boy, "Come now, Unie, show a little
fire. I tell you a fellow's got a right to expect it at this time." She
dreaded his frankness of undressing, of shaving; dreaded his occasional
irritated protests of "Don't be a finicking, romantic school-miss. I may
not wear silk underclo' and perfume myself like some bum actor, but I'm
a regular guy"; dreaded being alone with him; dreaded always the memory
of that first cataclysmic night of their marriage; and mourned, as in
secret, for year on year, thousands of women do mourn. "Oh, I wouldn't
care now if he had just been gentle, been considerate.... Oh, Ed _is_
good; he _does_ mean to care for me and give me a good time, but--"

When they returned to New York, Mr. Schwirtz said, robustly: "Well,
little old trip made consid'able hole in my wad. I'm clean busted. Down
to one hundred bucks in the bank."

"Why, I thought you were several thousand ahead!"

"Oh--oh! I lost most of that in a little flyer on stocks--thought I'd
make a killing, and got turned into lamb-chops; tried to recoup my
losses on that damn flying-machine, passenger-carrying game that that
---- ---- ---- ---- let me in for. Never mind, little sister; we'll
start saving now. And it was worth it. Some trip, eh? You enjoyed it,
didn't you--after the first couple days, while you were seasick? You'll
get