“I can only stay a minute, Gracie,” Ralph said at last. “I promised ’em I’d be back.”

Her heart thumped under the nylon. “Ralph, do you—do you like this?”

“What, honey?”

“My negligee. You weren’t supposed to see it until—after the wedding, but I thought I’d—”

“Nice,” he said, feeling the flimsy material between thumb and index finger, like a merchant. “Very nice. Wudga pay fa this, honey?”