"Well, how'm I going to get some dough?" I demanded. "I can't draw on Jacklin's Washington account—and the chances are there isn't much there anyhow. And if I try to draw on Tompkins' account I'll find myself in the hoosegow."
She got up and mixed us another pair of drinks. "I got it," she announced. "It won't be too nice for you but it's better than starving."
"You mean you'll lend me some?"
"Hell, baby, I got no money—twenty-five or thirty in the account and a few hundreds in war-bonds. No, this is better. Just hold out your hand and shut your eyes."
It sounded like jewels. I leaned back in the chair, closed my eyes and extended my right hand in front of me, palm upward. I heard her pad into the bathroom. When she came back, her voice sounded strained as she whispered: "This is it, baby. Keep those eyes shut!"
There was a smooth, tingling sensation across the tips of my fingers, then my right hand was suddenly warm and wet. I opened my eyes to see Arthurjean holding a stained safety-razor blade in her hand and staring at me, white-faced, as the blood trickled from my finger-tips.
"Winnie—" she faltered, and slumped down in the divan.
I hastily grabbed the handkerchief from my breast-pocket and wrapped it around my throbbing fingers.
"Ouch! Damn you!" I exclaimed.
"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you. It seemed the only way—"