She held up her face with the tears rolling down it, and he kissed a dry spot and her yellow frizzed bangs.
"My girl! My cry-baby girl!"
"You're all I got in the world, Blutch! Thinkin' of what's best for you has eat into me."
"I know! I know!"
"We'll never get nowheres in this game, hon. We ain't even sure enough of ourselves to have a home like—like regular folks."
"Never you mind, Babe. Startin' first of the year, I'm going to begin to look to a little nest-egg."
"We ought to have it, Blutch. Just think of lettin' ourselves get down to the last seventy-five! What if a rainy day should come—where would we be at? If you—or me should get sick or something."
"You ain't all wrong, girl."
"You'd give the shirt off your back, Blutch; that's why we can't ever have a nest-egg as long as you're playin' stakes. There's too many hard-luck stories lying around loose in the gamblin' game."
"The next big haul I make I'm going to get out, girl, so help me!"