"You know you have," she said, and smiled, with her head back so that her face foreshortened.
"I'm going far for you Winnie. Gambling is too rotten—and too easy. I want to build bridges for you. Practice law. Corner Wall Street."
This last clicked.
"Once," she said, lying back, with her pupils enlarging with the fleeting memories she was not always alert enough to clutch—"once—once when I lived around Central Park—a friend of mine—vice-president he was—Well, never mind, he was my friend—it was nothing for him to turn over a thousand or two a week for me in Wall Street."
This exaggeration was gross, but it could feed the flame of his passion for her like oil.
"I'll work us up and out of this! I've got better stuff in me. I want to wind you in pearls—diamonds—sapphires."
"I had a five-thousand-dollar string once—of star sapphires."
"Trust me, Winnie. Help me by having confidence in me. I'm glad my luck is welching. It will be lean at first, until I get on my legs. But it's not too late yet. Win, if only I have some one to stand by me. To believe—to fight with and for me! Get me, girl? Believe in me."
"Sure. Always play strong with the cops, Red. It's the short cut to ready money. Ready money, Red. That's what gets you there. Don't ask any girl to hang on if it's shy. That's where I spun myself dirt many a time, hanging on after it got shy. Ugh! That's what did for me—hanging on—after it got shy."
"No. No. You don't understand. For God's sake try to get me, Winnie. Fight up with me. It'll be lean, starting, but I'll finish strong for you."