"Is Habana in the war, Lew?"
"Darned if I know exactly."
"Ain't this war just terrible, Lew?"
"Don't let it worry you, girl. If it puts you out of business, remember, it's boosted my stocks fifty per cent. You know what I told you about chicken feed."
She buried her nose in her handkerchief, turning her head. Her eyes had begun to crinkle.
"It—it's just awful! All them sweet boys!"
"Now, cryin' ain't goin' to help. You 'ain't got no one marchin' off."
"That's just it. I 'ain't got no one. Everything is something awful, ain't it?" Her sympathies and her risibilities would bubble to the surface to confuse her. "Awful!"
He scraped one forefinger against the other.
"Cry-baby! Cry-baby, stick your little finger in your little eye!"