"Tell me, Izzy; something terrible is wrong. It--it isn't papa, Izzy?
Tell me it isn't papa. For God's sake, Izzy, he--he ain't--"

"'Sh-h-h! N-no! No, it ain't. It--it ain't pa. It's me, Renie--it's
me!" He crumbled at her feet, his palms plastered over his eyes and his
fingers clutched deep in the high nap of his hair. "It's me! It's me!"

"What? What?"

"'Sh-h-h! For God's sake, Renie, you got to stand by me; you got to
stand by me this time if you ever did! Promise me, Renie! It's me,
Renie. I--Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

She stooped to his side, her voice and hands trembling beyond control.
"Izzy! Izzy, tell me--tell me! What is it?"

"Oh, my God, why didn't I die? Why didn't I die?"

"Izzy, what--what is it? Money? Haven't I always stood by you before?
Won't I now? Tell me, Izzy. Tell me, I say!"

She tugged at his hands, prying them away from his eyes; but the terror
she saw there set her trembling again and thrice she opened her lips
before she found voice.

"Izzy, if you don't tell me, mamma will be back soon, and then pa;
and--you better tell me quick. Your own sister will stand by you. Get
up, dearie." Tears trickled through his fingers and she could see the
curve of his back rise and fall to the retching of suppressed sobs.
"Izzy, you got to tell me quick--do you hear?"