deep into the flesh. "You don't mean what you're saying, Max."

"Sure, I do! Piano and all, girl."

"No, no, you don't. You're just kidding me, Max, like you used to when
you wanted to tease me and throw a scare in me that your mother was wise
about the flat. Quit your kidding, Max, and take me in your arms and
sing me 'Maizie you're a Daisie' like you used to after--after we had a
little row. Lemme hear you call me 'Maizie,' dear, so I'll know you're
only kidding. I'm a bum sport, dearie. I--I never could stand for
guying. Cut the comedy, dear."

She leaned to him with her lips twisted and dried in their frenzy to
belie his words, but with little else to indicate that her heart
lay ticking against her breast like a clock that makes its hour in
half-time.

"Quit guying, Max, for God's sake! You--you got me feeling sick clear
down inside of me. Cut it, dear. Too much is enough."

Her dress rustled with the faint swish of scything as she moved toward
him, and he withdrew, taking hold of the back of his chair.

"Now, now, Mae; come, come! You're a sensible woman. I ain't stuck on
this business any more than you are. You ought to have let me stay away
and just let it die out instead of raking up things like this. Come,
buck up, old girl! Don't make it any harder than it's got to be. These
things happen every day. This is business. There, there! Now! Now!"

The sudden bout of tenderness brought the tears stinging to her eyes
and she was for ingratiating herself into his embrace, but he withdrew,
edging toward the piano with an entire flattening of tone.

"Now, now, Mae, I tell you that you got to cut it. It would have been
better if you had just let the old cat die, You oughtn't to tried that
gag to get me here to-night. You'll get a lot more out of me if you do
it dry, girl. A crying woman can drive me out of the house quicker 'n
plague, and you ought to know it by now."

She sat down suddenly, feeling queasy.

"Now, now, old girl, buck up! Be a sport!"

"Gimme a drink, Max. I--Just a swallow. I--I'm all right." And she
squeezed her eyes tight shut to blink out the tears.

He handed her a tumbler from the table, keeping his head averted, and
after a bit she fell to sobbing and choking and trembling.

"It's her! It's your old woman. She's been chloroforming you with a lot
of dope talk about hitting the altar rail with a bunch of white satin
with a good fat wad sewed in the lining. It's your old--"

"Cut tha