At last she produced a bit of linen, and mopped Mickey's eyes
and face, then her own. While still clinging to him she whispered:
"Mickey, I'm jus' about _dead_ to have it be the _Herald_, an' the _front
page_, an' _you_, an' _not_ about _me!_"
"Flowersy-girl, I'm just as sorry as you are," said Mickey. "It was this
way: I was just crazy over things our editor-man did, that saved our dear
boss and the lovely Moonshine Lady who gave you your Precious Child and
her 'darling old Daddy' from such awful trouble it would just a-killed
them; honest it would Lily! When our editor-man was so great and nice, and
did what he didn't _want_ to at all, I went sort of wild like, and when I
was off for the day and got on the streets, everything pulled me his way.
I was anxious just to see him again, and if I'd done what I wanted to, I'd
a-gone in the _Herald_ office and knelt down, and said: 'Thank you, oh
thank you!' and kissed his feet, but of course I knew men didn't do like
that, and it would have shamed him, but I had to do something or bust, and
I went running for the office like flying, and my mind got whirling
around, and that stuff began to come.
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