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 came singing a harsh song from around the corner.

This was Brook Avenue. She and Eddie would have to walk one block to Willis Avenue and then wait for a car. They ran irregularly at best, and this was two o'clock in the morning. When one came, they'd ride to the subway entrance at One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street and Broadway. It was elevated there. They would wait again for a train which would take them to Dyckman Street. All this time Dot would be sleepy and very cold. Her coat had a fur collar, of course, but it was really a thin coat.

Mr. Cudahy had begun to unlace his shoes. "You ought to stay," he said.

"It's a shame to drag her out tonight," said Mrs. Cudahy.

"Gee, nobody cares about poor me," said Pat.

Mrs. Cudahy laughed. "Are you going to have a baby?" she asked.

Mr. Cudahy jumped from his chair and looked at Dot. "What!" he cried. "Have you been holding such news back from me? Never will you two kids get out of this house now. What! On Christmas morning I shouldn't have a bed for you, and you should go out in the cold with your poor little body uncomfortable and all? On Christmas morning of all times. By God, Mother, give them my bed."

His explosion, half mockery, half something else, brought a sudden silly moisture to Dot's eyes. There were people who respected the rights of the little fellow yet to be.

She looked at Eddie. He was smiling at Mr. Cudahy, but his smile was that of one who still must refuse to accept a favor.

"Oh, Eddie, please let's stay," Dot cried. "I don't know whether Mr. Cudahy's joking or not, and I don't care, but I'm terribly uncomfortable."