" "That is very kind of you," she acknowledged. ” She gave him a Marboro which he lit with a Zippo with an American flag on it. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound.
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