"You've been undergoing a bodily change for ten years. During all that time your brain-cells have been changing their structure, and they'll never be healthy or normal until they've been made over. You can't accomplish that in a few weeks." "Say, you don't mean I'm going to stay thirsty until my egg-shaped dome becomes round again?" "Well, yes." "Why, that might take years!" "It took ten years to work the damage--it will probably take ten years to repair it." Bob was aghast. "Good heavens! In ten years I'll be too old to drink--I'd tremble so that I'd spill it. But where did you get all this M. D. dope?" "I've been reading. I've been talking to a doctor, too. You see, I wanted to help." "Let's change doctors. Ten years! It can't be done." "I'm afraid you're right. There's no such thing as reformation. A born criminal never reforms; only those who go wrong from weakness or from bad influences ever make good." "Drinking isn't a crime," Bob declared, angrily, "any more than freckles. It's just a form of diversion." Lorelei shook her head. "If you're a born alcoholic you'll probably die a drunkard. I'm hoping that you didn't inherit the taste." "Well, whether it was left to me or whether I bought it, I can't go dry for ten years." "Then our bargain is ended." He looked up sharply. "Oh no, it isn't!" "Yes." He extended a shaking hand, and his voice was supplicating as he said: "I can't get along without you, kid. You're a part of me--the vital part. I'd go to pieces quick if you quit now." "When we made our agreement I meant to live up to every bit of it," Lorelei told him, gently, "but we're going to try again, for this was Jim's fault." "Jim? Jim was sorry for me. He tried to cheer--" Lorelei's smile was bitter. "Jim was never sorry for anybody except himself. My family hate you just as your family hate me, and they'd like to separate us." "Say, that's pretty rotten!" Bob exclaimed. "If he weren't your brother I'd--" Lorelei laughed mirthlessly. "Go ahead! I wish you would. It might clear the atmosphere." "Then I will." After a moment he continued, "I suppose you feel you must go on supporting them?" "Of course." "Just as you feel you must support me. Is it entirely duty in my case?" Seeing her hesitate, he insisted, "Isn't there any love at all?" "I'm afraid not, Bob." The man pondered silently. "I suppose if I were the right sort," he said, at length, with some difficulty, "I'd let you go under these circumstances. Well, I'm not the right sort; I'm not big or noble. I'm just an ordinary, medium-sized man, and I'm going to keep you. However, I'm through side-stepping; I've tried to outrun the Barleycorn Brothers, but it's no use, so I'm going to turn and face them. If they lick me I'll go under. But if I go under I'll take you with me. I won't give you up. I won't!" "I sha'n't let you pull me down," she told him, soberly.