"She should worry while the crop of four carats is good."
"Yes, but just the same a girl like her don't know when her luck may turn. A girl can lose her luck sometimes before she loses her figure."
"Any old time she can lose her luck with you."
"Me!"
"Yes, you!"
Madam Moores bent over the pleats in her napkin. Opposite her, his cigarette held fastidiously aloft, he regarded her through its haze.
"Well, of all things! So that—that's what you think?"
"I—I know."
"Know what?"
"That she's dead strong for you."