She understood Allen. She knew why he had not followed up his advantage. She respected him for it. But she almost hated him for it as well. She walked slowly back into the middle of the room. Again she leaned back against the table. The uneasy breathing of the man on the couch could be heard. “Eddie,” she called. Slowly he turned his face away from the wall. He opened his eyes and for a moment stared without winking down the length of his body. Then he crooked one arm, raised himself to a sitting posture, turned and pulled his feet off the couch. He sat with his body toward her. But he looked down at her feet. He put his hands down on either side of him against the couch, as if to brace himself. He moved his dry lips two or three times. “So you let Allen go away without you,” he said. “You were awake?” “Most of the time.” He looked up at her. He had slept a long time and he was quite sober. The pupils of his blue eyes were like black pin-heads. He tried to control the uneasy movements of his swollen upper lip. “I heard what you told him,” he declared in a high, assertive voice. “You’re right about me. I know it. But it’s worse than you think. I’m done. I’ll be glad when I’m dead. Not on your account either. On my own account. I’ll be glad when I’m dead, I tell you. You ought to have gone away with him. What makes you so silly?” “Please, Eddie.” “I mean it. I wish you’d go away and leave me. I wish to God you would.” He stared defiantly at her, blinking his eyes. She tried to speak. She moved her lips, searching for words. Exasperation struggled with the pity in her face. She looked at him without trying to hide her pity. Her forehead was puckered with little dimples. She tilted her head a little to one side and half extended one hand. “Eddie!” she cried. “Eddie, my poor boy! If you’d only let me--” “Ah-k!” He waved his hand in front of his face, brushing away her words. “Don’t I know what you’re about to say!” he sneered, twisting his face and making his light-colored eyes glare at her. “Save me--eh? Want to try that again, eh? What do you want to do that for? You’ve tried that before. Now you want to try it again, eh? I know. I know. What makes you so silly? I’m done. You know I’m done. Allen’s right. Better chuck the whole thing and forget it. You’ll be glad afterward.” He wagged his head, smirked at her and added: “And maybe you don’t know it but I’ll be damned glad of it too.” “You mustn’t talk that way, Eddie. You mustn’t.” “Yes I will,” he declared, pulling down his puffed upper lip. He looked around at the floor, at the furniture, at her, with an unchanging, hard stare. A silence followed. Nothing could be heard but his quick, uneasy breathing and the uneasy motions of his body on the couch. His hands moved all of the time. His yellowish face moved. His eyes rested nowhere.