Park shone in their faces. They stood apart holding each other's hands.
"Take that redhaired girl up at 105th Street. . . . I bet she wouldnt be upstage when she was alone with a feller."
"She's a dweadful woman, she dont care what kind of a wep she has. . . . Oh I think you're howid." She began to cry again.
He pulled her to him roughly, pressed her to him hard with his spread hands on her back. She felt her legs tremble and go weak. She was falling through colored shafts of faintness. His mouth wouldnt let her catch her breath.
"Look out," he whispered pulling himself away from her. They walked on unsteadily down the path through the shrubbery. "I guess it aint."
"What Morris?"
"A cop. God it's hell not havin anywhere to go. Cant we go to your room?"
"But Morris they'll all see us."
"Who cares? They all do it in that house."
"Oh I hate you when you talk that way. . . . Weal love is all pure and lovely. . . . Morris you don't love me."
"Quit pickin on me cant you Cassie for a minute. . .? Goddam it's hell to be broke."
They sat down on a bench in the light. Behind them automobiles slithered with a constant hissing scuttle in two streams along the roadway. She put her hand on his knee and he covered it with his big stubby hand.
"Morris I feel that we are going to be very happy from now on, I feel it. You're going to get a fine job, I'm sure you are."
"I aint so sure. . . . I'm not so young as I was Cassie. I aint got any time to lose."
"Why you're terribly young, you're only thirtyfive Morris. . . . And I think that something wonderful is going to happen. I'm going to get a chance to dance."
"Why you ought to make more than that redhaired girl."
"Elaine Oglethorpe. . . . She doesnt make so much. But
