“Now, now, you can’t say I ’ain’t been as white as silk, girl, and I’m going to be just as white as I’ve been, too.  Don’t worry, girl.  For six years there ’ain’t been a better-stocked flat than this in town, has there?”

“No, Max.”

“The best none too good, eh?”

“No, Max.”

“Just the same stuff comes here that I send up to my mother’s flat, eh?  All the drinks and all the clothes you want and a servant in the house as good as my mother’s own, eh?  No kick coming, eh, girl?”

“You—­you wouldn’t, Max—­you wouldn’t ditch me.  What could I do?  Nothing—­nothing.  I—­I can’t hire out as a scrubwoman, I—­”

“Come, come now, girl, you’re pretty slick, but you—­you don’t quite slide.  What about that thirty-five hundred you got down in your jeans—­eh?  Them thirty-five hundred in the Farmers’ Savings Bank—­eh?  Eh?”

“Max!”

“Hah!  Knocked you off your pins that time, didn’t I?  I found your bank-book one morning, kiddo—­found it on the floor right next to the dresser—­”

“Max, I—­Out of my checks I—­I saved—­I—­”

“Sure!  Gad!  I ain’t kicking about it, girl.  Glad for you!  Glad you got it, girl, only don’t try to tell me you can’t take care of yourself in this world alrighty, girl.  Any old time you can’t!  Gad! thirty-five hundred she snitches out of her allowance in six years, lives on the fat of the land, too, and then tries to bamboozle me that she’s flat.  Thirty-five hundred in six years.  Gad!  I got to hand it to you there, kiddo; I got to hand it to you!”

“You can have it back, Max.  I—­I was going to surprise you when I had five thousand.  I—­”

“Gad!  I don’t want your money, girl.  It’s yours.  You’re fixed for life on it.  I’m even going to hand you over a couple of thou extra to show you that I’m no cheap sport.  I won’t have a woman breathing can say I ain’t white as silk with her.”

“Max, you—­you’re killing me!  Killing me!  Killing me!”

“Now, now, Mae, if I was you I wouldn’t show my hand so.  I don’t want to hurt you, girl.  It ain’t like I got any but the finest feelings for you.  You’re all right, you are.  You are.”

“Then, Max, for God’s sake—­”

“But what are you going to do about it?  What the hell is anybody going to do about it?  You ain’t no baby.  You know what life is.  And you know that the seams has got to show on one of the two sides and it ain’t your fault you got turned on the under side.  But you should worry, girl!  You’re fixed.  And I’m here to tell you I’m going to hand you on top of the two thou this here little flat just as it stands, Mae.  Just as it stands, piano and all.  I just guess you got a kick coming!”

Her hands flew to her bosom as if the steel of his words had slipped deep into the flesh.  “You don’t mean what you’re saying, Max.”

“Sure, I do!  Piano and all, girl.”