"I couldn't help it that they cut out the pianner at the Concession, could I? The films ain't no more fun fer me than fer you, honey."
"It's pretty lonesome for a girl sitting here alone every night. It was bad enough before you took the twelve-to-two job; but I never have no evenin's nohow."
He looked at her with wide-open eyes.
"I didn't know you were sore, Lil--on the real, I didn't! I jest took that cafe job fer a few weeks to help along the surprise." His hand went to his hip-pocket.
"Oh," she said, her lips curling, "I'm sick of that line of talk."
"Lil!"
There was a count-five pause; and then the old cheeriness came back into his voice.
"I'm going to cut out the cafe job, anyway, now that--"
"Oh, never mind," she said, indifferently. "What's it matter whether you are home at twelve or two? I ain't had no evenin's for a good long time, anyhow."
"I guess you're right. Don't I wish I had some steady clerkin' job, like Bill! But it don't seem like I am cut out fer anything but pounding ragtime--you knew that, honey, before we was--" He stopped, reddening.
"No, I didn't! If I'd known before we was married what I know now, things might be different. How was I to know that you was goin' to be changed from matinee work to all-night shows? How was I to know you was goin' to make me put up with a life like this? When I see other girls that's married out of the department, and me, I jest wanna die! Look at Sally Lee and Jimmy--they go to vaudyville every week and to Coney Saturdays. You even kick if I wanna go over to Loo's to spend a evening!"
"I don't kick, Lil; I jest don't like to have you running round with that live wire. She ain't your style."
"That's right--run down my friends that I worked next to in the gloves fer four years! She was good enough fer me then. Me and her is old friends, and jest 'cause I'm married don't make me better'n her."
"I'm sorry I kicked up about it, honey. Maybe I was wrong."
"She can tell you that I had swell times when I was in the gloves--even when I was in the notions, too. There wasn't a night I didn't have a bid for some dance or something."
"Well, if this ain't a darn sight better'n pushing gloves at six per I'll--I'll--"
"I'll give you to understand, Charley Harkins, that I was making eight dollars when I married you, and everybody said that I'd 'a' been promoted to the jewelry in another year."
She rose, gathered a pyramid of dishes, and clattered them into the dish-pan as he talked. He followed after her.
"Aw, quit your foolin', Lil, can't you? Don't treat a feller like this when he comes home at night. I'll get Shorty to take the piano next Saturday, and we'll do Coney from one end to the other. We only live once, anyway. Come on, Lil; be nice and see what I got fer you, too."
"Don't treat me like I was a kid! When I was in the gloves I didn't think nothin' of goin' to Coney every other night, and you know it, all right."
The red surged back into his face.
"Yes, you had a swell time shooting gloves! You used to tell me yourself you was ready to drop at night."
"Ain't I ready to drop here?" she flashed back at him. "Am I any better off here doin' my work in the hottest flat on Third Avenue?"
"Things'll come out all right, honey. Come on and kiss me before I go."
She submitted to his embrace passively enough, and at his request retied his necktie round a fresh collar for him.
"Good night, pussy! I'll come in soft so as not to wake you--there ain't goin' to be no more of this two-o'clock business. I'm goin' to cut out the cafe. Put a glass of milk out fer me, honey. I'm near dead when I get in."
He struggled into his coat before the little dressing-table mirror of their bedroom and with a sly smile slipped the blue-corded box into a top drawer.
"I got a surprise fer you, Lil--only you ain't in no mood fer it right now."
"I ain't in no humor for nothin'," she said.
"It's going to be a scorcher. You take it easy and get rid of these blues you been gettin' here lately. You ain't got no better friend than your old man or any one who wants to do more of the right thing by you."
"I'll take a car-ride over to Loo's to cool off," she said, apathetically.
He opened his lips to speak; instead he nodded and kissed her twice. Then he hurried out.
After he left her she sank down on the little divan of highly magnetized red plush and stared into space. Face to face with her weeks-old resolve, her courage fainted, and a shudder like ague passed over her. She could hear herself wheeze in her throat; and her petal-like skin, unrelieved by moisture, was alternately hot and cold.
The low-ceiled room, dark except for a reflected slant of yellow gas-light coming in from the kitchen, closed down like an inverted bowl. She went to the window.
On the fire-escape opposite, the child still slept, one little ghost of a bare foot extending over the rail. As she watched, a woman's voice from within the apartment cried out sharply--a panicky cry filled with terror; then a silence--more pregnant than the call itself. Lily knew, with a dull tugging at her heartstrings, that the babe had died. Only a week before she and Charley had seen a little life snuffed out in the apartment above, and she knew the mother-cry. Charley had dressed the child and cried hot, unashamed tears; then, as now, her own eyes were dry, but her throat ached.
East Side tradition has it that every tenth year exacts the largest share of human toil--this might have been Death's Oberammergau!
Trembling, Lilly turned and groped her way into the little bedroom; drawers slid open and slammed shut, tissue-paper rattled, the hasps of a trunk snapped; then came the harsh sing of water pouring from a faucet. Presently she reappeared in the doorway in a fresh white blouse and a dark-blue skirt; there were pink cotton rosebuds on her hat and a long pair of white silk gloves dangling from one hand. In the other she carried a light wicker hand-satchel.
By the shaft of light she reread the small square of yellow paper and impaled it carefully, face up, on the pincushion of their little dressing-table. It poised like a conspicuous butterfly. Then she went out into the kitchen, poured a glass of milk, placed it beside a small cake of ice in a correspondingly small refrigerator, turned off the gas-light, and went out of the apartment without once glancing behind her.
* * * * *
Miss Lulu Tracy lived in a lower West Side rooming-house. Lily had once dwelt in that same dingy-fronted building, in a room which, like her friend's, was reduced to its lowest terms. The familiar cryptic atmosphere met her as she crossed the threshold. Loo greeted her effusively.
"Lordy, Lil, I was afraid you was gettin' cold feet! Sit right down there on the trunk till I get some of this cold-cream off. I'm ready to drop in my tracks, I am. Three of the lace-girls fainted to-day and had to be took home. Ain't this room awful?"
Lilly sank in a little heap on the trunk.
"It _is_ hot," she admitted.
"Hot? You look like a cucumber. Wait'll I get this cold-cream off, and tell me all about it. I'm here to tell you that you're all right, you are. Give me a game one every time! But wait till I tell you what's up."
Miss Tracy laved her face with layers of cold-cream, which she presently removed with a towel.
"Don't I wish I had your skin, Lil!"
Lilly brightened.
"Quit your kiddin', Loo," she said. "I ain't used to jollying no more."
"You know yourself you was the best looker we ever had at the counter. Skinny calls you The Lily to this day."
"I ain't got the looks I once had, Loo." But her fair face flushed.
"Wait till you get round a little--you'll look five years younger." Lilly giggled. "On the real, Lil, there wasn't a girl in the department didn't expect you to marry some swell instead of Charley Harkins. If I'd 'a' had your looks I wouldn't been satisfied with nothin' but the real thing. Look at Tootsie grabbin' old man Rickman! She can't hold a candle to you."
"Just the samey, she'd 'a' rather had Charley if she could 'a' got him. I know a thing or two about that."
Cold-cream removed, Miss Tracy enveloped her friend in an embrace.
"So you're goin' to bunk with me to-night! Seems like old times, don't it?"
"Just like old times," said Lilly.
"Now tell me how you got away. He didn't get wise, did he?"
"No; I just left the note, Loo."
"That'll hold him for a while. You're the real thing, you are! Not that I want to make any trouble, but a blind man could see that you're a fool to spend your time that way. Huh! Sellin' gloves ain't no cinch, but if it ain't got being buried alive beat by a long shot I'll eat my hat!"
Impressed by her friend's gastronomic heroism, Lilly acquiesced. "You're right. I'll try to get my job back to-morrow. Maybe it won't be so easy."
"Easy?" cried Loo. "Why, the easiest thing you ever tried! The gloves haven't forgot you."
"I hope not," sighed Lilly.
"You're game, all right! I like to see a girl stand up for her rights--there ain't no man livin' could boss me! I'd like to see the King of Germany hisself coop me up seven nights in the week an' me stand for it. Not muchy! I got as much fight in me as any man. That's the kind of a hair-pin I am!"