Page:Tales of the Jazz Age.djvu/88

 I'm no prig, Lord knows," he went on deliberately. "I like pleasure&mdash;and I like a lot of it on a vacation like this, but you're&mdash;you're in awful shape. I never heard you talk just this way before. You seem to be sort of bankrupt&mdash;morally as well as financially."

"Don't they usually go together?"

Dean shook his head impatiently.

"There's a regular aura about you that I don't understand. It's a sort of evil."

"It's an air of worry and poverty and sleepless nights," said Gordon, rather defiantly.

"I don't know."

"Oh, I admit I'm depressing. I depress myself. But, my God, Phil, a week's rest and a new suit and some ready money and I'd be like&mdash;like I was. Phil, I can draw like a streak, and you know it. But half the time I haven't had the money to buy decent drawing materials&mdash;and I can't draw when I'm tired and discouraged and all in. With a little ready money I can take a few weeks off and get started."

"How do I know you wouldn't use it on some other woman?"

"Why rub it in?" said Gordon, quietly.

"I'm not rubbing it in. I hate to see you this way."

"Will you lend me the money, Phil?"

"I can't decide right off. That's a lot of money and it'll be darn inconvenient for me."

"It'll be hell for me if you can't&mdash;I know I'm whining, and it's all my own fault but&mdash;that doesn't change it."

"When could you pay it back?"

This was encouraging. Gordon considered. It was probably wisest to be frank.

"Of course, I could promise to send it back next month, but&mdash;I'd better say three months. Just as soon as I start to sell drawings."

"