y dollars, honey! Me
and Cutty are quits for good. Ain't that something--now, ain't it?"

"Let me go!"

"Pussy-cat!"

"Let me go, I say!"

He coughed and turned on his side toward her.

"You don't mean it."

"I do! I do! Let go! Let go!"

She tore herself free and darted to the wardrobe door. He closed his
eyes and his lashes lay low on his cheeks.

"Before you go, Goldie, where's the antiphlogistin? I got a chest on me
like an ice-wagon."

"Sure, you have. That's the only time you ever show up before crack of
dawn."

He reached out and touched her wrist.

"I'm hot, ain't I?"

She placed a reluctant hand on his brow.

"Fever?"

"It ain't nothing much. I'll be all right."

"It's just one of your spells. Stay in bed a couple of days, and you'll
soon be ready for another jamboree!"

"Don't fuss at me, baby."

"It's in the wash-stand drawer in a little tin can. Don't make the
plaster too hot."

"Sure, I won't. I'll get along all righty."

She threw a shabby cloth skirt over her arm and a pressed-plush coat
that was gray at the elbows and frayed at the hem. He reached out for
the dangling empty sleeve as she passed.

"You was married in that coat, wasn't you, hon?"

"Yes," she said, and her lips curled like burning paper; "I was married
in that coat."

"Goldie-eyes, you know I can't get along without my petsie; you know it.
There ain't no one can hold a candle to you, baby!"

"Yes, yes!"

"There ain't! I wish I was feelin' well enough to tell you how sorry,
baby--how sorry a fellow like me can get. I just wish it, baby--baby--"

She surrendered like a reed to the curve of a scythe and crumpled in a
contortional heap beside the bed.

"You--you always get me!"

He gathered her up and laid her head backward on his shoulder, so that
her face was foreshortened and close to his.

"Goldie-eyes," he said, "I'll make it up to you! I'll make it up to
you!" And he made a motion as though to kiss her where the curls lay on
her face, but drew back as if sickened.

"Good God!" he said. "Poor little baby!"

Quick as a throb of a heart she turned her left cheek, smooth as a lily
petal, to his lips.

"It's all right, Harry!" she said, in a voice that was tight. "I'm
crazy, I guess; but, gee, it's great to be crazy!"

"I'll make it up to you, baby. See if I don't! I'll make it up to you."

She kissed him, and his lips were hot and dry.

"Lemme fix your plaster, dearie; you got one of your colds.