"Yeh; and while we were sittin' there gigglin' and screechin' at
June-bugs poor Addie was provin' that a street-car fender has got it all
over a mangling-machine."

"Yes; it's like she says about herself--she was payin' her initiation
fee for life membership into the Society of Cripples with a perfectly
good hip and a bit of spine."

"Poor Addie! Gawd, how she loved to dance! She used to spend every
noon-hour eatin' marshmallows and learning me new steps."

The wind soughed in their ears, and Goldie's skirts blew backward like
sails.

"You haven't got a better friend than Addie right now, girlie! She
always says our little flat is yours. The three of us, Goldie--the three
of us could--"

"It's swell for a girl that ain't got none of her own blood to have a
friend like that. Swell, lemme tell you!"

"Goldie!"

"Yes."

"It's like I said--I've never talked right out before, but I got a
feelin' you're slippin' away from me like a eel, girlie. You know--aw,
you know I ain't much on the elocution stuff; but if it wasn't for Addie
and her accident right now--I'd ask you outright--I would. You know what
I mean!"

"I don't know anything, Eddie; I'm no mind-reader!"

"Aw, cut it out, Goldie! You know I'm tied up right now and can't say
some of the things I was going to say that night on the stoop. You know
what I mean--with Addie's doctor's bills and chair and crutches, and
all."

"Sure I do, Eddie. You've got no right to think of anything."

She turned from him so that her profile was like a white cameo mounted
on black velvet.

"You just give me a little time, Goldie, and I'll be on my feet, all
righty. I just want some kind of understanding between us--that's all."

"Oh--you--I--"

"I got Joe's job cinched if he goes over to the other firm in March; and
by that time, Goldie, you and me and Addie, on eighty per, could--why,
we--"

She swayed back from his close glance and ran up the first three steps
of her rooming-house. Her face was struck with fear suddenly, as with a
white flame out of the sky.

"'Sh-h-h-h-h-h!" she said. "You mustn't!"

He reached for her hand, caught it and held it--but like a man who feels
the rope sliding through his fingers and sees his schooner slipping out
to sea--slipping out to sea.

"Lemme go, Eddie! I gotta go--it's late!"

"I _know_, Goldie. They been guyin' me at the office about you passin'
me up; and it's right--ain't it? It's--It's him--" She shook her head
and t