His jaw dropped.
"She go with Shipman Jack to Victoly in piah-ship," said Annie, hiccupping. "I see her, Annawillee see her."
"I see, nika nanitsh Jenny klatawa with Jack," puked Annawillee. "She klatawa in piah-ship, she go Victoly."
She was hugging a bottle to her pendant breasts as she told her lie. But she believed it by now, and kept on repeating "to Victoly, an' to California in piah-ship with Shipman Jack, inati chuck; acloss water."
"Oh, God," said Pete. He was a dirty white colour. His lips hung down.
"She tikegh Jack velly much," said Annie, "love him very much, and cly and say him good man, not beat her and tear her dless. She much aflaid of you, Pete. She cly and go away."
"She cly and go away," chimed in Annawillee, weeping tears of awful alcohol. She was so sorry for everyone, and for herself and Jenny and Pete and all the world. "I cly, I cly!"
She sobbed and drank, and still Pete stood there, very sick at heart.
"My pretty tenas klootchman," he murmured, "oh, hell, what I do?"
"You hab dlink," said Annie, holding him up the bottle. He took it, put it to his mouth, and drank half a pint of fiery stuff that nearly skinned his throat. He dropped the empty bottle on the floor and turned away back to his empty shack.