"He'd do anything in the world for you, Dee."
"If he would, that's all the more reason why I couldn't go to him with this," muttered Dee obscurely.
Pat had an inspiration. "I could. I'll tell him. I'll tell him the whole thing. Except about Angel-face, of course. I'll tell him he's just got to get you out of it. Let me, Dee."
"Oh, go ahead! I don't care. I don't care about anything. I wish I were dead."
"Don't be an ass. We'll fix it." Pat was exuberant with the sense of great and delicate affairs in her hands. "I'll go right now and tackle him. If he sends for you will you come?"
"Yes," agreed Dee listlessly. "You're a good little sport, Pat," she added.
The response was curt and unexpected: "Are you?"
"For not going through with it, you mean?"
"Yes. On Jimmie's account. It's as much his as yours."
"Is it!" Bitter laughter followed. "He's no right to it. He's no right to me."