He was too puzzled to become angry. "Sue? Why? How?"

"Give her up. It'll hurt less if you break it off. Everybody knows what she's doing."

"What's she doing?" Shed's voice was plaintive.

"Never mind. I said more than I should already. If there's ever anything we can do for you, let us know."

"I will. I will," he promised. He went upstairs, to his hidden cash box, and found it barren.

There was not a gersh in the place, upstairs or down. What was going on? "Lisa. Where's all the money?"

"I hid it."

"What?"

"I hid it. The way you're carrying on, you're going to lose this place. You have a legitimate expense, tell me. I'll cover it."

Shed goggled. He sputtered. "Who the hell do you think you are, girl?"

"The girl who's going to keep you in business in spite of yourself. The girl who's going to stop you from being a complete fool with Gilbert's woman."

"Gilbert's?"

"Yes. What did you think was going on?"

"Get out," Shed snapped. "You don't work here anymore."

Lisa shrugged. "If that's what you want."

"Where's the money?"

"Sorry. Come see me when you get your common sense back."

Shed raged around the common room. His customers clapped, egging him on. He threatened. He cajoled. Nothing worked. Lisa remained adamant. "It's my family!" he protested.

"You go prove that woman isn't Gilbert's whore. Then I'll give you the money and walk."

"I'll do that."

"What if I'm right?"

"You're not. I know her."

"You don't know shit. You're infatuated. What if I'm right?"

He was incapable of entertaining the possibility. "I don't care."

"All right. If I'm right, I want to run things here. You let me get us out of debt,"

Shed bobbed his head once and stormed out. He was not risking anything. She was wrong.

What was her game? She was acting like a partner or something. Like his mother had, after his father died and before she lost her sight. Treating him like he did not have twice her experience of business and the world.

He wandered for half an hour. When he came up from his melancholy, he saw he was near Sailmakers' Hall. Hell. He was there; he'd just go see Gilbert. Make a loan so he could see Sue that night. Little bitch Lisa could hide his money, maybe, but she couldn't keep him away from Gilbert.

Half a block later he began to suffer conscience pangs. Too many people depended upon him. He shouldn't make his financial situation worse.

"Damned woman," he muttered. "Shouldn't talk to me that way. Now she's got me doubting everybody." He leaned against a wall and fought his conscience. Sometimes lust pulled ahead, sometimes the urge toward responsibility. He ached for Sue. ... He should not need money if she really loved him. . . .

"What?" he said aloud. He looked again. His eyes had not deceived him. That was Sue stepping into Gilbert's place.