Peaches accomplished a shrug that was wonderful, and gazed at the ceiling, her lips closed. Mickey watched her a second, then he began softly: "Flowersy-girl, I don't see what you mean! I don't know why you act like this! I don't know what's to have a tantrum for, when I didn't _mean_ it to be there, and didn't _know_ it would be there. Honest, I don't!" "Go on an' read it!" she commanded. Mickey obeyed. As he finished she faced him in wonder. "Why they ain't a damn bit of sense to it!" she cried. "_Course_ there ain't!" agreed Mickey. "Course there _would be_ no sense to anything that wasn't about _you!_" "Then what did you put it there in my place for?" "I didn't! I'm trying to tell you!" persisted Mickey. Peaches shed one degree of royal hauteur. "Well why don't you go on an' tell, then?" "Aw-w-ah! Well if you don't maneuver to beat a monoplane! I've tried to tell you, and you won't _let_ me. If you stop me again, I'm going to march out of this room and stay 'til you bawl your eyes red for me." "If you go, I'll call Junior!" said Peaches instantly. "Well go on and call him!" He turned, his heart throbbing, his eyes burning with repressed tears, the big gulp in his throat audible to Peaches, as her little wail was to him. He whirled and dropping on his knees took her in his arms. She threw hers around his neck, buried her face against his cheek, and they cried it out together. At last she produced a bit of linen, and mopped Mickey's eyes and face, then her own. While still clinging to him she whispered: "Mickey, I'm jus' about _dead_ to have it be the _Herald_, an' the _front page_, an' _you_, an' _not_ about _me!_" "Flowersy-girl, I'm just as sorry as you are," said Mickey. "It was this way: I was just crazy over things our editor-man did, that saved our dear boss and the lovely Moonshine Lady who gave you your Precious Child and her 'darling old Daddy' from such awful trouble it would just a-killed them; honest it would Lily! When our editor-man was so great and nice, and did what he didn't _want_ to at all, I went sort of wild like, and when I was off for the day and got on the streets, everything pulled me his way. I was anxious just to see him again, and if I'd done what I wanted to, I'd a-gone in the _Herald_ office and knelt down, and said: 'Thank you, oh thank you!' and kissed his feet, but of course I knew men didn't do like that, and it would have shamed him, but I had to do something or bust, and I went running for the office like flying, and my mind got whirling around, and that stuff began to come.