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ace where you want to smash things up, a good big cuss word just helps an awful lot! Don't you think so?" Rosie cleared her throat a little nervously. "Yes, Janet, I suppose it does." "You bet it does! And what's more, women have got just as much right to use it as men, haven't they?" Rosie wanted to cry out: "I don't think they want to! I know I don't!" but, under Janet's fiery glance, the words that actually spoke themselves were: "Yes, of--of course they have." With the hearty agreement of every one present, there was no more to be said on that subject. Janet turned to another. "Rosie, will you do something for me? Come and stay all night with me. I'll be so lonely I don't know what I'll do." Rosie's heart sank. If she spent the night with Janet, she'd have no chance to talk to George Riley, for she'd be gone long before he got home. Besides, there was Dave McFadden, and the thought of sleeping near him was almost terrifying. "But, Janet dear, how about your father?" "Oh, I suppose he'll come in soused as usual. But you won't be bothered. I'll get him off to bed before you come and he'll be safe till morning. Please say you'll come, Rosie. I need you, honest I do." That was true: Janet did need her. George Riley would have to wait. "All right, Janet. I'll come." "Thanks, Rosie. I knew you would." Janet paused. "And, Rosie, do you think you could lend me a quarter? I've got to have some money for breakfast. Mother had a dollar in her pocket but I forgot about it at the hospital." "I haven't a cent, Janet, but I'll raise a quarter somewhere, from Terry or from dad, and I'll bring it with me tonight." Janet stood up to go. "Come about eight o'clock, Rosie." Rosie looked at her friend compassionately. "Why don't you stay here for supper?" Janet shook her head. "I'd like to but I don't think I'd better. He probably won't come home, but he might come and I better be on hand." Janet started off slowly and reluctantly. Twice she turned back a face so woebegone and desolate that it went to Rosie's heart and, after a few moments, sent her flying for comfort to her mother's ample bosom. Mrs. O'Brien gathered her in as if were the most natural thing in the world. "What is it, Rosie darlint? What's troublin' you?" "Ma," she sobbed, "you're well, aren't you?" "Me, Rosie dear, am I well, do you say?" Mrs. O'Brien looked into Rosie's tearful eyes in astonishment. "Yes, Ma, you! I want yo
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