If it was--the mother--it might be different, but where the father is--to
blame--it don't matter with the boy. Anyways, he's nearly of age. I tell
you, Millie, if you'll just look at this thing sensible--"
"I--Let me think, let--me--think."
Her tears had quieted now to little dry moans that came with regularity.
She was still swaying in her chair, eyes closed.
"You'll get your decree, Millie, without--."
"Don't talk," she said, a frown lowering over her closed eyes and pressing
two fingers against each temple. "Don't talk."
He walked to the window in a state of great perturbation, stood pulling
inward his lips and staring down into the now brilliantly lighted flow of
Broadway. Turned into the room with short, hasty strides, then back again.
Came to confront her.
"Aw, now, Millie--Millie--" Stood regarding her, chewing backward and
forward along his fingertips. "You--you see for yourself, Millie, what's
dead can't be made alive--now, can it?"
She nodded, acquiescing, her lips bitterly wry.
"My lawyer, Millie, he'll fix it, alimony and all, so you won't--"
"O God!"
"Suppose I just slip away easy, Millie, and let him fix up things so it'll
be easiest for us both.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89