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Updated: May 1, 2025
I'm afraid a little." "I think it's all right so far. Listen, there go our guns again. It's quite all right, Eve dear." "I didn't know I was so cowardly. But of course I'll never show it when the time comes." "Of course you won't. Don't worry. Shells make a lot of noise when they explode on deck. All that tinpan effect we heard was probably a ventilator collapsing perhaps a smokestack."
"You're joshin'," says I. Honest, I didn't think she meant it. She didn't say any more about it, and all the way home she was as quiet as a bale of hay. That was the last I see of Marjorie for near a week. Then, one afternoon as I was goin' through Tinpan Alley on an errand, I sees the Ellins carriage pull up, and out she comes. Now, say, I knew in a minute that wa'n't any place for Marjorie.
The birdlike strut of her silkened legs, the brazen lure of her stenciled child face, the lithe grimace of her adolescent body under the stiff coloring of her clothes were a part of the blur in the newspaper man's mind. She was one of the things he fumbled for on the typewriter one of the city products born of the tinpan bacchanal of the cabarets.
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