"Charley, aren't you tired painting this old town yet? Ain't there just nothing will bring you to your senses? Honest, this morning's papers are a disgrace. You—you won't catch me along again."
He slid his arm, all for ingratiating, back into hers.
"Come now, honey; you know you like me for my speed."
She would not smile.
"Honest, Charley, you're the limit."
"But you like me just the same. Now don't you, Loo?"
She looked at him sidewise.
"You've been drinking, Charley."
He felt of his face.
"Not a drop, Loo. I need a shave, that's all."