She tried to find words and to smile at him through the hot rain of her tears, and the deep-rooted sobs that racked her subsided and she snuggled closer and burrowed into his pillow.

“I—­I can’t keep it no longer, darlin’.  I ain’t cryin’, I—­I ’ain’t got the horrors.  I’m laffin’.  I—­I seen him, Harry—­Ingram—­I seen him just before closin’, and—­and—­oh, Harry, you won’t believe it, he said—­he—­I—­I’m laffin’ for joy, Harry!”

“What?  What, Vi?  What?”

She fumbled into the bosom of her blouse and slid a small folded square of yellowback bill into his hand.

“What?  What, Vi?  What?”

“A cool hundred, darlin’.  Ingram—­the Aid Society, because it’s Christmas, darlin’.  They opened up—­a cool hundred!  We—­we can light out To-morrow, darlin’.  A cool hundred!  Old Ingram, the old skinflint, he opened up like—­like a oyster.  South, all of us, to-morrow, darlin’; it ain’t nothing for me to get a job South.  When I seen it was snowin’ I’d ‘a’ killed somebody to get it.  I—­I had to have it and we got it, darlin’, we—­we got it—­a cool hundred!”

He lay back on the pillow, suddenly limp, the bill fluttering to the coverlet, and she slid her arm beneath his head.

“You could have knocked me down, too, darlin’.  Easy, just like that he forked over.  ‘What’s a Aid Society for?’ he kept sayin’.  ’What’s a Aid Society for?’”

“Vi, I—­”

“Don’t cry, darlin’, don’t cry.  I just can’t stand it!”

“I—­”

“’S-s-s-s-h!  Easy, just like that he gimme it, darlin’.”

“And me lying here hatin’ him for a skinflint and his store for a bloodsucker and the Aid Society for a fake!”

“Yes, yes, darlin’.”

“I feel new already, Vi.  I can feel the sun already shining through me.  If he was here, I—­I could just kiss his hand; that’s how it feels for a fellow to get his nerve back.  I got my chance now, Vi; there ain’t nothing can keep me down.  Just like he says—­I’ll be a new man out there.  Look, hon, just talking about it!  Feel how I got some strength back already.  An hour ago I couldn’t hold you like this.”

“Oh, my darlin’!”

He sat up suddenly in bed and drew her into his arms and she laid her cheek against his, and in the silence, from the trundle crib beside them, the breathing of a child rose softly, fell softly.

“I—­I blew us to a real Christmas, darlin’, us and the kid.  I—­I couldn’t help it.  I couldn’t bear to have her wake up without it, Harry, her and you—­and me.”

“A real Christmas, baby!”

“Red wine for you, darlin’, like I brought you last Tuesday night and warmed you up so nice.  The kind the doctor says is so grand for you, darlin’—­red wine without bubbles like he says you gotta have.”

“Red wine!”

“Yeh, and black grapes like I brought you last Tuesday, and like he says you oughtta have—­black grapes and swell fruit that’s good for you, darlin’.”