"You're welcome in any other city but this, Carlotta. Why in—" he mentioned a familiar place, not, it is to be assumed, that he particularly desired her removal thither, but merely as a vivid instance—"didn't you make a date for somewhere else?"
"Tried to all day, but your poppa musta kep' his ol' whiskers ambushin' that phone—stalled me ev'ry time, an what's more humiliatin' to a lady, when I called, acshually slammed the door in my face."
"Well, it's no use your coming here—I'm flat broke."
Now there could have been in this carefully swept room no verminous signs, but Carlotta inquired with some heat as to what was "bitin' him, anyway," then, probably thinking the query malapropos, sat on the arm of his chair, her arm creeping softly around his neck.
"What's your game, now?" he shot out, angrily jerking away from the embrace.
"Say, kiddo, yuh misconstrue muh intenshuns, which is, so to speak, as it were, you done me wrong. Perhaps it amuses you—an' Mac cert'nly thinks so—but—I'm—not—looking—for—coin. I've cert'nly staked you often enough, if anyone should ast you, an' I wouldn't a done that, would I, if I hadn't fell for you?"
"No, little one, no one would accuse you of that," he returned, shaking his head in alcoholic perspicacity.
But her arms were softly emphasizing her plea. In fact she gave him their full opulence, and Philip wondered—if—after all
"I've got money enough. Supposin' I stake you till you get
