"If I was you--now mind, I'm only suggesting it--but if I was you I wouldn't be in such a hurry about getting back in that roof show, Sadie. Maybe in a few days something better may show up or--or you'll change your mind or something." "I gotta get back to work to keep from thinking. Anyway, I don't want to be sponging on you any longer than I can help." "You're my wife, aren't you?" She sat, a small cold huddle in the center of the cab seat, toward him her quivering face flashing out as street lamps bounced past. They were nearing the great marble facade of the Seventh Avenue Terminal. "Herman, I--I hate to see everything bust up like this--you--you such a prince and all--but like Syl says, I--I guess all fools ain't dead yet!" "You've had time to work this thing out for yourself now, Sadie, but like I was saying before, anybody can play stubborn, but--but it's a wise person who ain't ashamed to change his mind. Eh, Sadie? Eh?" They were sliding down a runway and drew up now alongside a curb. A redcap, wild for fee, swung open the cab door, immediately confiscating all luggage. "No, no, not that! You carry that box, Herm. It's the padded underjacket for grandma. Tell her I--I sent it to her, Herm--with--with love." "Yes, Sadie." She was frankly crying now, edging her way through the crowd, running in little quick steps to match her pace to his. At the trainside, during the business of ticket inspection, she stood by, her palm pat against her mouth and tears galumphing down. With a face that stood out whitely in the gaseous fog, Mr. Loeb fumbled for the red slip of his berth reservation. "Well, Sadie girl, three minutes more and--" "Oh--oh, Herm!" "If you feel as bad as that, it's not too late, Sadie. I--you--it takes a wise little girlie to change her mind. Eh? Eh?" "No--no, Herm, I--" He clenched her arm suddenly and tightly. "If you want to come, girl, for God's sake now's your time. Sadie honey, you want to?" She shook him off through gasps. "No, no. Herm, I--I can't stand it--it's only that I feel so bad at seeing you--No--no--not--not now." The all-aboard call rang out like a shout in a cave. He was fumbling at his luggage for the small pasteboard box, haste fuddling his movements. "I'll be in Pittsburgh to-morrow till seven, honey. Sleep over it, and if you change your mind, catch the eleven-forty-five St. Louis flyer out of here to-morrow morning, and that train'll pick me up at Pittsburgh--eleven forty-five." "Oh, I--" "You be the one to bring this box home, with your own little hands, to poor grandma, honey, and--and if you don't change your mind, why--why, you can send it. You be the one to bring it to her, honey. Remember, it's a wise girlie knows when to change her mind!" "Oh, Hermie--Hermie!" "All--aboard!" With her hands clasped and her uncovered face twisted, she watched the snakelike train crawl into oblivion. When she re-entered the taxicab she was half swooning of tears.