"I'm going to die tonight," he
said. "I don't need my strength
up."
"Don't be melodramatic, Harry,
please," she said.
"Why don't you use your nose?
I'm rotted half way up my thigh
now. What the hell should I
fool with broth for? Molo bring
whiskey-soda."
"Please take the broth," she
said gently.
"All right."
The broth was too hot. He had
to hold it in th