For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. We’ve done nothing to deserve it. “But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone. “Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row. It hit her just above the knee. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. “I was sick of the make-believe. I keep on thinking of little details and aspects of your voice, your eyes, the way you walk, the way your hair goes back from the side of your forehead. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. "I have hurt you because I would not trust you. He was there concealed, waiting her return.
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