"Just
like a woman, to run away from things. Where am I to get cigarettes from
for to-morrow? Marcella, I can't be without them! What on earth you do
with the money I can't imagine! Girlie--do get them for me," and he
burst into tears. She stared at him in astonishment. The next moment her
arms were round his neck, his head on her shoulder.
"You poor little boy," she whispered. "Don't worry. I'll get them for
you."
"I'm sorry I'm such a kid, dearie. But you know my nerves are in rags
yet. And I can't be without cigarettes. I tell you I can't be without
cigarettes! Borrow some money from Mrs. King--"
"Don't you worry. I'll manage it," she said soothingly. "We've got bread
and jam and tea. We'll pretend it's a picnic and we've forgotten the
rest of the things."
"Naturally, you'd take good care to get in a good stock of the things
you like," he began. "Jam! Oh Lord, I do wish I hadn't a tongue. I say
unkind things and wish I hadn't the next minute."
"It rather gives away what you think, though," she said quietly, as she
went out of the room.
She passed three times through the kitchen before she could summon
sufficient courage to borrow sixpence from Mrs. King to buy cigarettes.
But after a while she came back with twenty cigarettes and gave them to
Louis.
He stared at them.
"Only twenty!" he said gloomily.
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