But the words on my lips would come.
"Blackie," I said, and I struggled to keep my voice
calm and emotionless, "Blackie, forgive me. It is all my
fault--my wretched fault."
"Now, cut that," interrupted Blackie. "I thought
that was your game. That's why I said I wanted t' talk
t' you. Now, listen. Remember my tellin' you, a few
weeks ago, 'bout that vacation I was plannin'? This is
it, only it's come sooner than I expected, that's all.
I seen two three doctor guys about it. Your friend Von
Gerhard was one of 'em. They didn't tell me t' take no
ocean trip this time. Between 'em, they decided my
vacation would come along about November, maybe. Well,
I beat 'em to it, that's all. Sa-a-ay, girl, I ain't
kickin'. You can't live on your nerves and expect t'
keep goin'. Sooner or later you'll be suein' those same
nerves for non-support. But, kid, ain't it a shame that
I got to go out in a auto smashup, in these days when
even a airship exit don't make a splash on the front
page!"
The nervous brown hand was moving restlessly over the
covers. Finally it met my hand, and held it in a tense
little grip.
"We've been good pals, you and me, ain't we, kid?"
"Yes, Blackie.
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