Therefore Gabe I. Marks qualifies. Gabe was the gentleman
about whom Effie permitted herself to be guyed. He came to Chicago
on business four times a year, and he always took Effie to the
theater, and to supper afterward. On those occasions, Effie's
gown, wrap and hat were as correct in texture, lines, and paradise
aigrettes as those of any of her non-working sisters about her. On
the morning following these excursions into Lobsterdom, Effie would
confide to her friend, Miss Weinstein, of the lingeries and
neligees:
"l was out with my friend, Mr. Marks, last evening. We went
to Rector's after the show. Oh, well, it takes a New Yorker to
know how. Honestly, I feel like a queen when I go out with him.
H'm? Oh, nothing like that, girlie. I never could see that
marriage thing. Just good friends."
Gabe had been coming to Chicago four times a year for six
years. Six times four are twenty-four. And one is twenty-five.
Gabe's last visit made the twenty-fifth.
"Well, Effie," Gabe said when the evening's entertainment had
reached the restaurant stage, "this is our twenty-fifth
anniversary. It's our silver wedding, without the silver and the
wedding. We'll have a bottle of champagne. That makes it almost
legal. And then suppose we finish up by having the wedding.
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