THE GAY COCKADE
"They are all like that," Tommy said, "but if I were you I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."
Dick brightened. "Wouldn't you?"
"Not if I had to carry her off under my arm," said Tommy between his teeth.
"But I can't carry her off, Tommy—and she won't go."
"She'll go if you ain't afraid of her," Tommy told him with solemn emphasis. "I was afraid."
They were under the street lamp, and Dick stared at him in astonishment. "I didn't know you were afraid of anything."
"I didn't know it either," was Tommy's grim response, "until I met her. But I've known it ever since."
"Well, it's hard luck."
"It is hardest at Christmas time," said Tommy, "and my beat ain't the best one to make me cheerful. There are too many stores. And dolls in the windows. And drums. And horns. And Santa Claus handing out things to kids. And I've got to see it, with money just burning in my pocket to buy things and to have a tree of my own and a turkey in my oven and a table with some one who cares at the other end. And all I'll get out of the merry season is a table d'hôte at Nitti's and a box of cigars from the boys."
"Ain't women the limit, Tommy?"
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