"Billie Hawker doesn't give a rap about me, and he never tried to make out that he did." "No," said Grief.

"But that isn't saying that you don't care a rap about Billie Hawker.

Ah, Florinda!" It seemed that the girl's throat suffered a slight contraction.

"Well, and what if I do ?" she demanded finally.
"Have a cigarette ?" answered Grief.
Florinda took a cigarette, lit it, and, perching herself on a divan, which was secretly a coal box, she smoked fiercely.
"What if I do ?" she again demanded.

"It's better than liking one of you dubs, anyhow." "Oh, Splutter, you poor little outspoken kid!" said Wrinkle in a sad voice.
Grief searched among the pipes until he found the best one.