"What I'm trying to find out," said Edna, "is what the devil you want for supper tomorrow night."
"Oh, anything," said Dot. "Ham sandwiches will do. I'll be so glad to get home I won't care what I eat."
"In that case, I guess there's no use of me fussing for you. I like a good meal at six o'clock, and Eddie hasn't had anything but sandwiches for two weeks; so I guess the best thing we can do is to leave two hunks of ham and a loaf of bread for you, and Eddie and I'll go to a restaurant to celebrate. How about it?"
Dot laughed. The idea of Edna and Eddie entertaining each other was good.
"No kidding, Dot." Eddie's voice was coaxing. "Edna says she don't mind cooking supper tomorrow night; so as long as she's game, why don't you pick out something you like and have a swell feed?"
Dot looked down at the baby's face and spoke with her eyes fixed hard on his little busy mouth. "What I want would cost about four dollars," she said.
"Well, speak up," Edna said.
"Sure," Eddie added, "Mr. Williams broke his heart and gave me a five-spot."
Dot looked up quickly. "And you'd buy supper things with it?" she asked. "That's for the baby. When people give you money, it's because they don't know what you need for him." She dropped her eyes again and added, "It's not fair to Mr. Williams, Eddie, not to spend the money on something for the kid."
"Is that so?" Eddie demanded, hotly. "You know what Williams told me to do with it? He told me to get some whiskey and get cockeyed drunk and recover from the wait I had downstairs. What do you think of that?"
"I think that's darn mean of Mr. Williams," said Dot. "Me with a new-born baby and you cockeyed drunk."
"Well, what are you mad about? I didn't get drunk,
