He's off
his nut from the beatin'-up he got. Say, you guy! We're waitin' to
hear what they landed you for--or ain't yuh tellin'?
YANK--Sure, I'll tell youse. Sure! Why de hell not? On'y--youse
won't get me. Nobody gets me but me, see? I started to tell de
Judge and all he says was: "Toity days to tink it over." Tink it
over! Christ, dat's all I been doin' for weeks! [After a pause.] I
was tryin' to git even wit someone, see?--someone dat done me
doit.
VOICES--[Cynically.] De old stuff, I bet. Your goil, huh?
Give yuh the double-cross, huh?
That's them every time!
Did yuh beat up de odder guy?
YANK--[Disgustedly] Aw, yuh're all wrong! Sure dere was a skoit in
it--but not what youse mean, not dat old tripe. Dis was a new kind
of skoit. She was dolled up all in white--in de stokehole. I
tought she was a ghost. Sure. [A pause.]
VOICES--[Whispering.] Gee, he's still nutty.
Let him rave. It's fun listenin'.
YANK--[Unheeding--groping in his thoughts.] Her hands--dey was
skinny and white like dey wasn't real but painted on somep'n. Dere
was a million miles from me to her--twenty-five knots a hour. She
was like some dead ting de cat brung in. Sure, dat's what. She
didn't belong. She belonged in de window of a toy store, or on de
top of a garbage can, see! Sure! [He breaks out angrily.
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