older. Even the voices of the grown people were quieted as they sought their beds. A summer's night it might be, but there was work to be done tomorrow.
For the first time in her life Lillian wondered why God troubled to create mankind. Was it for the same reason that people kept pets? She stared up at the sky as she wondered. Its blue darkness reminded her that it was growing late. She, too, had work to do tomorrow. She sighed and picked up the clock. She set the alarm for seven.
Hubert turned and looked at her.
"Come on, ickle boy," she said. "Time we went beddy-byes."
"Yes, I suppose so." He got up. "Say, you know I was just laying there thinking how much alone you are. You haven't got a friend, Lil. Suppose something happened to me?"
"That's a sweet thought. I hate to discourage you, but you're pretty strong. Nothing will happen to you."
"I know. But suppose something did? Gee, you used to have so many friends—Theresa and Mary Jackson and Anna and Louise. Look, they're all gone."
"Oh, them," said Lillian. She was turning out the lights and she spoke carelessly over her shoulder. "To hell with them. They're only weak-kneed little no-accounts passing me up cold because I'm a kept woman. Come on, hon, get to bed."
