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Show FICTION THE O'MADDIGAN'S CORNER By Patrick J. O'Brien 1 TOMORROW is Flannagan's wake, Kathy O'Maddigan recalled, as she hurried up the brownstone steps leading to the apartment where she and Paddy had lived since their marriage three years ago, this very day. Kathy smiled I as she visualized 3 -MlnUtB the new spring Fiftinn outflt he would I MCIIOn wear at the gath- " erlng. Paddy was proud of her dress, too, even If he didn't say so. She knew he liked the way lt emphasized her figure. Of course he had complained about the cost, adding: "If you want to waste money on clothes, you should have married a banker." "Your home," Patrick O-Maddigan's O-Maddigan's voice vibrated through the thin partition. "Is It now?" "Your home," Patrick O'Maddl-gan's O'Maddl-gan's voice vibrated through the thin partition. "Is it now? And only this morning you were ready tc walk out of my house." "When I get my hands on thai stubborn neck of yours," Kathy 0' Maddigan shouted, "I'll . . ." "Sure now," Paddy said, "would you be wanting to harm your bread and butter?" "Open this door, I say!" "In good time, woman," Paddy replied. "It's your Irish temper that has the best of you." "Temperl" Kathy shouted. "A fine one you are to be talking of an Irish temper. Who was lt that woke the neighbors with his carrying on in the wee hours of the morning?" No answer. "It was Patrick O'Maddigan, that's who it was. And all because j wanted the money to buy the hat." But the argument about the dress was not the real reason she had left. The breaking point was reached when Paddy had refused to buy the darling bonnet displayed In Murphy's Mur-phy's window. "Ridiculous!" he said. Ridiculous? How could a hat be ridiculous when every day, for nearly a month, she had stopped to look In the window and admire it Reaching the apartment door, she turned the knob, but the door refused re-fused to open. Apprehensively, she turned the knob back and forth, but to no avail. She was locked out. Kathy blushed furiously with Indignation. Indig-nation. Then she exploded: "Open this doorl Do yon hear me?" she shouted, pounding frantically on the warped panels. "It's not enough that I work myself my-self to the bone so a body can have a decent home to live in. No. I must be locked out of my own home. My home, mind you!" "TjUT the price, woman. I couldn't O afford a week's wages for a bit of lace and cloth." "Don't you want your wife to be the best dressed lady at the wake tomorrow?" Kathy asked. "That I do. But could you not purchase pur-chase a hat that's more reasonable in price?" "I had my heart set on wearing that hat to the wake," Kathy said. "Don't you love me?" "It's not a question of love," Paddy replied, "it's the money I'm thinking of." "Then you'll not buy the hat foi me?" Silence. "Let me In, Paddy," Kathj pleaded, a pathetic note creeping into her voice. "I'll be good . . ." There were sounds of movement in the apartment. Then Kathy hearc a key rattle in the lock. Swiftly she stooped, slipped a shoe off hei foot and straightened up with li grasped firmly in one small hand. She struck swiftly as the door was opened suddenly. But it was so sudden that Kathy was thrown off balance and the momentum mo-mentum carried her to the center cen-ter of the room. She landed unceremoniously un-ceremoniously on her hands and knees. Brushing aside a strand of hall that was tickling the Up of her nose, she looked up at Paddy who wai standing beside the open door. It his hand was a bit of Kelly greer and a little white veil with a pini and blue ribbon on the side. "You did buy it Paddy. But . you . . . said ..." "I meant to surprise you Kathy " Paddy explained. "I couldn't lei you down. Have you forgotten oui wedding anniversary?" i "Oh. Paddy," she said tenderly. |