"Wasn't it partly your fault, Elfie?"
Her friend leaned across the table, her face flushed with anger.
"Was it my fault that time made me older and I took on a lot of flesh? Was it my fault that the work and the life took out the color, and left the make-up? Was it my fault that other pretty young girls came along, just as I'd come, and were chased after, just as I was? Was it my fault the cabs weren't waiting any more and people didn't talk about how pretty I was? And was it my fault when he finally had me alone, and just because no one else wanted me, he got tired and threw me flat——" Bringing her hand down on the table with a bang, she added: "Cold flat—and I'd been on the dead level with him." With almost a sob, she went up to the bureau, powdered her nose, and returned to the table. "It almost broke my heart. Then I made up my mind to get even and get all I could out of the game. Jerry came along. He was a has-been, and I was on the road to be. He wanted to be good to me, and I let him. That's all!"
"Still, I don't see how you can live that way," said Laura, lying back on the bed.
"Well, you did," retorted Elfie, "and you didn't kick."
"Yes," rejoined Laura calmly, "but things are different with me now. You'd be the same way if you were in my place."
"No," laughed Elfie mockingly, "I've had all the romance I want, and I'll stake you to all your love affairs. I am out to gather in as much coin as I can in my own way, so when the old rainy day comes along I'll have a little change to buy myself an umbrella."
Laura started angrily to her feet. Hotly she cried:
"What did you come here for? Why can't you leave me alone when I'm trying to get along?"
"Because I want to help you," retorted Elfie calmly.