"Well?" she asked.
"Where—where 're we goin' to?"
"What!"
"Well, I—I did n't know whether yuh meant it," he said. "An' I did n't make no— My place ain't fit— It took all the money I had to pay him. I—"
"Well, Phil Carney," she cried. "If you ain't the limit!"
He did not deny it. He looked around, troubled, at the passers-by.
"What 're you going to do?" she demanded.
He had money in the savings-bank, but that was out of reach till morning. He had a brother in Brooklyn, but he and his brother were not on very friendly terms. He might borrow somewhere—enough for one night in a hotel, anyway—perhaps from Mrs. Kohn, from whom he rented his room, or from his friend the bar-keeper with whom he had left his clothes. But those two were at opposite ends of the town; and while he was trying to decide to which he should apply, she walked out into the road to meet an approaching street-car.
"Where yuh goin'?"
"I 'm going back to my room," she said disgustedly. "You can go where you like."
"Well, say," he protested.
"Well, say," she mocked him. "The next time you ask a girl to get married, you 'd better have some place to take her to. I can't live in the streets, can I?"
That silenced him. He stood beside the car step,
