“Perhaps she will; we'll talk to her; it's better than nothing.”
“I broke a box of rotten perfume at the drugstore, and owe the Doctor four seventy.”
“It's too bad—father is never free from little worries; you are always getting into difficulties. You are different from other boys, Anthony—there don't seem to be any place in life for you; or you don't make a place, I can't tell which. You have no constructive sense, and no feeling of responsibility. What do you want to do with yourself?”
“I don't know, Ellie, honestly,” he confessed. “I try like the devil, make a thousand resolutions, and then—I go off fishing. Or if I don't things go to the rats just the same.”
“Well,” she rose, “I'm going up. Don't bother father about that money, I'll let you have it. It's perfectly useless to tell you to return it.”
“I swear you will get it next week,” he proclaimed gratefully. “The baseball association owes me for two games.”
“Haven't you promised it?”
“That's so!” he exclaimed ruefully. She laughed and disappeared into the house.