MISS BROWN--Can't ye see where yer goin'?

BART--(_Fumbling in pocket._) Here. Sorry.

MISS BROWN--A dollar! Ye never can tell a millionaire by looks these days.

BART--(_Sinking into chair._) Am I doomed to blight everything I touch?

MISS BROWN--Are ye sick, mister? Can I help ye?

BART--Get out, get out, let me alone, and stop that machine!

MISS BROWN--(_Commiseratingly._) Poor fellow! (_Stops machine._) He's got the w.i.l.l.i.e.s.

BART--Don't talk to me, for Heaven's sake; I can't stand it!

MISS BROWN--(_Sarcastically._) Oh, I was just communin' with me other nuts.

(_She stoops to gather up the peanuts, but catches a glimpse of Bart's side face, and sits on floor, looking at him intently._)

To think of that profile bein' wasted on a man! It's terrible the way good looks is chucked around where they ain't needed!

(_Boy enters with an armful of newspapers. King is close behind him.

Bart rushes to King, knocking against the Boy as he does so, and sending the papers flying._)

BOY--Ye big stiff, what ye doin'?

BART--King, I thought you'd never come!

BOY--Look at me papers, will ye?

BART--(_Impatiently._) Oh, shut up!

(_Boy, grumbling and muttering to himself, helps Miss Brown pick up the peanuts and papers._)

KING--(_With great displeasure._) This is a nice out of the way place to bring a man to. What's wrong with you anyway? Drunk?

BART--(_Grimly._) I haven't been sober for three days.

KING--Don't boast about it.

BART--Boast, good heavens!

KING--What do you think a newspaper is, a day nursery? Here's Billy Sunday in town, the war, the Mexican situation, everything at boiling point; the Gazette short of men, and you off on a three days' jag! I've a good mind to fire you.

BART--(_Miserably._) I'm up against it, King, don't rub it in. I don't know which way to turn.

BOY--(_To Miss Brown, as they seat themselves behind counter._) I wish those ginks would clear out, so we could trot again.

MISS BROWN--They'll beat it to a free lunch counter soon.

(_She gets the Boy to hold a skein of worsted, which she unwinds and rolls into a ball. During the conversation between Bart and King, Miss Brown and the Boy now and then glance at them with a show of irritation, Miss Brown because they are not buying any of her wares, and also because she cannot hear enough of their talk to make sense of it._)

KING--What have you done, a second story job?

BART--(_With much humility, and some pride._) I've broken a girl's heart.

KING--(_Utterly disgusted._) Oh, h.e.l.l!

BART--I tell you, I've broken a girl's heart, and ruined her life.

KING--Rubbish! Sober up, and go back to work.

BART--I can't. She has threatened to do something desperate. There will be a scandal.

KING--Forget it!

BART--I wish I could, but suppose she shoots herself, or takes poison?

KING--That sounds pleasant.

BART--I didn't know she loved me, I protest I didn't.

KING--Cut out the heroics.

BART--She's mad about me, and I didn't understand till too late.

KING--(_Firmly._) Too late! You scuttle back to town, get a license, and marry her.

BART--I came to the city to earn money to marry a girl back home, and I'll marry her, or no one.

KING--Winning a girl's love, and throwing her over, is cheap sport. I'm disappointed in you, Bart. I didn't know you were that kind of a chap.

BART--I'm not that kind. It's all a horrible mistake. She misunderstood my--my attentions. I was just nice and friendly to her, and she, well she--

KING--That's right, put the blame on her.

BART--(_Hotly._) Well, I'm not going to blame myself. If women see fit to fall in love with me, it's not my fault.

KING--You conceited pup!

BART--I don't care. I've suffered enough these last three days, and I've just about gone to pieces. It's not my fault, I don't care what you say, it's not my fault.

KING--Every cad says it's not his fault.

MISS BROWN--(_To Boy._) What in the name of common sense are they ga.s.sin' about?

BOY--Aw, they're holdin' hands, I guess.