“Marie, come with me,” begged Eveley, clinging to her. “You must not go with them. They are treacherous, selling their honor for money. Do not trust them. Come with me. Nolan and I will take care of you, and Nolan will straighten out your tangles with the law. And Jimmy is wild for you, raging all over town trying to find you. Please, dear, let all the ugly past lie dead, and live a new life with us here. Oh, I can not let you go.”
“For them I care nothing,” Marie cried, with a smart snap of her fingers. “They are dogs. They only help us for money, and they wish only to embroil the world in war. It is no love for us—but they are cheap—we buy them. When the time comes, we tramp them under our feet. Eveley, if you wish me, I will come.”
Then in a moment they were away, the car swinging dizzily down the steep grade rocking from side to side.
“How did you get Marie, Angelo—you angel?” asked Eveley, after a while.
“They were all running around moving things, and Marie was helping. So I pitched in and helped too. When I walked by Marie she understood and came. And they did not notice. There isn’t much difference between a Wop and a Greaser.”
“And you will never leave me again, Marie?”
“I am all through with hatred and strife, now. I want only a home, where I can be happy, and live as you and I have lived. That is the only Americanization. Talk is nothing. Social service is a game. But when one makes living so fine that every one in the world wants to live that way—then it is Americanization. I am satisfied now.”
“Say, you’d better cut the talk and watch the road,” said Angelo suddenly. “You’ve been half over the grade a dozen times.”
“Yes, I will,” promised Eveley. “But I must hurry. They will follow us—will they follow us, Marie?”
“Oh, surely, when they miss us. They have motorcycles. Listen. Hear them far back? Of course they would follow.”