She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort. “If you must go on with it,” said Hetty, “now’s your time. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. You didn’t even do that Vee; not even that. And then she fell into a musing about Capes. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat.
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