Elegie: Chapter Seven by Charles MacArthur

Anticipating fresh trouble, Mr. Cunningham had recourse to strategy before Miller could open his mouth. Gently steering his client toward the door, he indulged in many polite but pointed intimations of farewell.

“I suppose you want to thank me, but it’s not at all necessary. It was a pleasure, pure and simple. Now, I’ve got a thousand things to do, and I know that you’re busy, too.”

But Miller stood his ground.

“Look here, Mr. Cunningham,” he blurted out. “I’ve got one of those consciences that begin kicking like a steer the minute I’ve done something that isn’t kosher. Will you forget what I said about Mrs. Miller, like a good fellow?”

“Now, don’t you go worrying about that!” cried the undertaker, vastly relieved. “Those things were said under stress. You didn’t mean them!”

“You’re damn right I didn’t mean them!” declared Miller, heartily. “She was a great kid, and I’m going to show her. You know that expression business -- that smile you were talking about?”

Mr. Cunningham stopped in his tracks.

“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” Miller continued, with suspicious gruffness. “Give her the works!”