"You're the only thing I've got in the world, Win. My luck's gone, but
I've got you. Tell me I've got you."
He could be equally intense over which street car to take, and she knew
it, but somehow it lessened for her none of the lure of his nervosity,
and with her mind recoiling from his pennilessness her body inclined.
"Tell me, Winnie, that I have you."
"You know you have," she said, and smiled, with her head back so that
her face foreshortened.
"I'm going far for you Winnie. Gambling is too rotten--and too easy. I
want to build bridges for you. Practice law. Corner Wall Street."
This last clicked.
"Once," she said, lying back, with her pupils enlarging with the
fleeting memories she was not always alert enough to clutch--"once--once
when I lived around Central Park--a friend of mine--vice-president he
was--Well, never mind, he was my friend--it was nothing for him to turn
over a thousand or two a week for me in Wall Street."
This exaggeration was gross, but it could feed the flame of his passion
for her like oil.
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