It was useless to resist what had now become affectionate brutality, and she did this. It was true that there was a glow in her hollow cheeks.
“Thank you!”
“By the Lord, you nearly laughed!” said Ravant, with entire seriousness. “Say—I’m going to like you. And I want you to try to like me. If I ever ask for whiskey again, don’t you give it to me, no matter if I curse you up hill and down dale. And I’ll try not to ask for it.”
The nurse stopped something which would have been a sob at maturity.
“But for God’s sake, don’t cry,” Ravant went on. “I hate women who cry. And I’m not hating you—I see that already.”
“I will not cry!” pledged the nurse.
“I believe you,” said Ravant. “Put it there. I won’t drink!”
And for the second time they shook hands.
III
CALLING A MAN A PIG
“And yet,” mused Ravant, “I make you cry!”