"You're good," she said; "you're the real thing." "You're good, too," he was certain, "when you're with me." "Oh, it rubs off.

Say, kid, I guess you got folks at home you're sending money to and all that, and you got to get ahead in the world.

Well, you don't want to have nothing to do with my kind, and that's straight." The deviltry she put on toward him failed pitifully.

"Chase yourself, kid; I just ain't good for you any more." Nevertheless they moved along the parapet to the dark interval between the lights and there they kissed again, this time with no undercurrent.
"Good-bye, Ethel." "Good-bye, boy." The little spark was out..