21/04/2026 03:03

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et around him and said in a solemn funny way he had, Fel ers, this ain't a war, it's a goddam madhouse. It's my dress, darling, yes, that costs money, not me. Where the hel 's Benton? He just phoned, Mr. owWhat the war's aboutBut you bet by goshI'll soon find outAnd so my sweetheartDon't you fearI'll bring you

Sam Margolies seemed sore because Margo had just come in her streetclothes. The day withal was too meaningful and tragic for ap-plause. Margolies was wait-ing. She was afraid of nothing; she was a great dancer.