"That's tough," he replied. "And you look nothing but a kid. Are you broke, too?"
"No," I said, though I really was.
"Have you any friends?"
I thought painfully. Mama and Margaret were my friends, but I could not go back there. He was coming by a special train. O'Brien? O'Brien was in New York. Bennet? I had stabbed Bennet even as Roger had stabbed me.
Who, then, was there?
Lolly; there was Lolly.
Drifts of feathery snow kept flying down from the housetops as the policeman and I passed along, and as icicles came crashing down upon the sidewalks he led me out into the middle of the road.
We came to Lolly's door, and the policeman rang the bell. I don't know what he said to the woman when she answered the door, but I ran by her and up the stairs to Lolly's room, and I knocked twice before she answered. I heard her moving inside, and then she opened the door and stood there with her blue eyes looking like glass beads, and a cigarette stuck out between her fingers. And I said:
"O Lolly! Lolly!" She stood aside, and I went in and fell down on my knees by the table, and threw out my arms upon it and my head upon them.