The Chinese Parrot (Charlie Chan Detective Series) — page 168: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

———_— . = on "Not a living soul. It's grand. And you—your case is just like mine. Of course there are millions of girls who have nothing better to do than marriage. All right for them. But you—why—you've got a wonderful job. The desert, the hills, the canyons—and you're willing to give all that up for a gas-range in the rear room of an apartment." "Perhaps we can afford a maid." "Lots of people can—but where to get one nowadays? I'm warning you—think it over well. You're having a great time now—that will end with marriage. Mending Wilbur's socks—" "T tell you his name is Jack." "What of it? He'll be just as hard on the socks. I hate to think of a girl like you, tied down somewhere—" "There's a lot in what you say," Paula Wendell admitted. "T've only scratched the surface," Eden assured her. The girl steered her car off the road through an open gate. Eden saw a huge, rambling ranch house surrounded by a group of tiny cottages. "Here we are at Doctor Whitcomb's," remarked Paula Wendell. "Wonderful person, the doctor. I want you two to meet." She led the way through a screen door into a large living-room, not so beautifully furnished as Madden's, but bespeaking even greater comfort. A gray-haired woman was rocking contentedly near a window. Her face was kindly, her eyes calm and comforting. "Hello, 168 comiicboeoe S CO