I was full up of coffee from my gentleman friend across the way, so declined Kelly's assistance in obtaining more. Every day, about 2.30, Kelly got in a certain more or less secluded corner of my compartment and ate a bit himself. “Been almost fired a couple of times for doin' this—this place is full o' squealers—gotta watch out all the time. Hell of a life I say when a fella has to sneak around to eat a bit of food.” That second afternoon, Kelly stopped in the middle of a gulp of coffee. “Say, w'at t' hell's a girl like you workin' for, anyhow? Say, don't you know you could get married easy as—my Gawd! too easy. Say, you could pick up with one of these waiters just like that! They're good steady fellas, make decent pay. You could do much worse than marry a waiter. I'm tellin' ya there's no sense to a girl like you workin'.” That was an obsession with Kelly. He drilled it into me daily. Kelly himself was a settled married man. Of his state we talked often. I asked Kelly the very first day if he ever went to Coney Island. “Ustta—'ain't been for ten years.” “Why not for ten years?” Kelly looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. “Got married ten years ago.” “Well, and w'at of it? Don't you have no more fun?” “You said it! I'm tellin' ya there's no more fun. Gee! I sure don't know myself these ten years. I was the kind of a fella”—here Kelly was moved in sheer admiration to do a bit of heavy cursing—“I was the kind of fella that did everything—I'm tellin' ya, _everything_. Bet there ain't a thing in this world I 'ain't done at least once, and most of 'em a whole lot more 'n that. An' now—look at me now! Get up at four every mornin', but Sundays, get down here at six” (Kelly was a suburbanite), “work till three, git home, monkey with my tools a bit or play with the kids, eat dinner, sit around a spell, go to bed.” A long pause. “Ain't that a hell of a life, I'm askin' ya?” Another pause in which Kelly mentally reviewed his glowing past. He shook his head and smiled a sad smile. “If you could 'a' seen me ten years ago!” Kelly told me the story of his life more or less in detail some days later. I say advisedly “more or less.” Considering the reputation he had given himself, I am relieved to be able to note that he must have left some bits out, though goodness knows he put enough in. But Kelly's matrimonial romance must be told.