Kitty did not take it: "You do too need it," she said, "How long will that pinch of dust last you? And what are you going to do when it's gone?"
"It don't make any difference what I do when it's gone. Whatever I do, I won't live on charity." And he tossed the sack past her through the doorway where it buried itself in the snow.
"You're a fool, Ace-In-The-Hole," she said, quietly, "A damn fool."
The man nodded, slowly: "That's right, I reckon. Anyway we won't quarrel about it. Will you do me just one more favor?"
"What is it?"
"Take this dust and get me a bottle of hooch—a quart bottle—two of them."
"No, I won't!"
Brent rose to his feet: "I'll have to go myself, then," he said, as he cast his eyes about for his hat.
"You ain't able! You're weak as a cat, and you'd fall down in the snow."
"I'll get up again, then." He found the hat and put it on.