"I'm afraid you're right. There's no such thing as reformation. A born criminal never reforms; only those who go wrong from weakness or from bad influences ever make good."
"Drinking isn't a crime," Bob declared, angrily, "any more than freckles. It's just a form of diversion."
Lorelei shook her head. "If you're a born alcoholic you'll probably die a drunkard. I'm hoping that you didn't inherit the taste."
"Well, whether it was left to me or whether I bought it, I can't go dry for ten years."
"Then our bargain is ended."
He looked up sharply. "Oh no, it isn't!"
"Yes."
He extended a shaking hand, and his voice was supplicating as he said: "I can't get along without you, kid. You're a part of me—the vital part. I'd go to pieces quick if you quit now."
"When we made our agreement I meant to live up to every bit of it,"
Lorelei told him, gently, "but we're going to try again, for this was
Jim's fault."
"Jim? Jim was sorry for me. He tried to cheer—"