"Go ahead and play at cat-and-mouse, if you want to.
Nobody'll stop you, I guess.

Have all the fun you want--you're getting it cheap enough; cheaper by a darned sight than you'll get the inside dope you're crazy for." "_What_ do you _know_ about it!--me running on to Jack Corey, away up here on the top of the world!" But it was hard to be flippant while she looked down into that stricken young face of his, and saw the white line around his lips that ought to be smiling at life; saw, too, the trembling of his bruised hands, that he tried so hard to hold steady.

She came still closer; so close that she could have touched his arm.
"It was the papers called you such awful things.

I didn't," she said, wistfully defensive.

"I couldn't--not after seeing you on the beach that day, playing around like a great big kid, and not making eyes at the girls when they made eyes at you.