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years。
Then one day the Greek became ill。 He sat up in bed with his
hands on his fat stomach and big； oily tears rolled down his
cheeks。 Singer went to see his friend's cousin who owned the
fruit store； and also he arranged for leave from his own work。
The doctor made out a diet for Antonapoulos and said that he
could drink no more wine。 Singer rigidly enforced the doctor's
orders。 All day he sat by his friend's bed and did what he
could to make the time pass quickly； but Antonapoulos only
looked at him angrily from the corners of his eyes and would
not be amused。
The Greek was very fretful； and kept finding fault with the
fruit drinks and food that Singer prepared for him。 Constantly
he made his friend help him out of bed so that he could pray。
His huge buttocks would sag down over his plump little feet
when he kneeled。 He fumbled with his hands to say 'Darling
Mary' and then held to the small brass cross tied to his neck
with a dirty string。 His big eyes would wall up to the ceiling
with a look of fear in them； and afterward he was very sulky
and would not let his friend speak to him。
Singer was patient and did all that he could。 He drew little
pictures； and once he made a sketch of his friend to amuse
him。 This picture hurt the big Greek's feelings； and he refused
to be reconciled until Singer had made his face very young
and handsome and colored his hair bright yellow and his eyes
china blue。 And then he tried not to show his pleasure。
Singer nursed his friend so carefully that after a week
5
Antonapoulos was able to return to his work。 But from that
time on there was a difference in their way of life。 Trouble
came to the two friends。
Antonapoulos was not ill any more； but a change had come in
him。 He was irritable and no longer content to spend the
evenings quietly in their home。 When he would wish to go out
Singer followed along close behind him。 Antonapoulos would
go into a restaurant； and while they sat at the table he slyly put
lumps of sugar； or a pepper…shaker； or pieces of silverware in
bis pocket。 Singer always paid for what he took and there was
no disturbance。 At home he scolded Antonapoulos； but the big
Greek only looked at him with a bland smile。
The months went on and these habits of Antonapoulos grew
worse。 One day at noon he walked calmly out of the fruit store
of his cousin and urinated in public against the wall of the
First National Bank Building across the street。 At times he
would meet people on the sidewalk whose faces did not please
him； and he would bump into these persons and push at them
with his elbows and stomach。 He walked into a store one day
and hauled out a floor lamp without paying for it； and another
time he tried to take an electric train he had seen in a
showcase。
For Singer this was a time of great distress。 He was
continually marching Antonapoulos down to the courthouse
during lunch hour to settle these infringements of the law。
Singer became very familiar with the procedure of the courts
and he was in a constant state of agitation。 The money he had
saved in the bank was spent for bail and fines。 All of his
efforts and money were used to keep his friend out of jail
because of such charges as theft； committing public
indecencies； and assault and battery。
The Greek cousin for whom Antonapoulos worked did not
enter into these troubles at all。 Charles Parker （for that was the
name this cousin had taken） let Antonapoulos stay on at the
store； but he watched him always with his pale； tight face and
he made no effort to help him。 Singer had a strange feeling
about Charles Parker。 He began to dislike him。
Singer lived in continual turmoil and worry。 But
Antonapoulos was always bland； and no matter what
happened the gentle； flaccid smile was still on his face。 In all6
the years before it had seemed to Singer that there was
something very subtle and wise in this smile of his friend。 He
had never known just how much Antonapoulos understood
and what he was thinking。 Now in the big Greek's expression
Singer thought that he could detect something sly and joking。
He would shake his friend by the shoulders until he was very
tired and explain things over and over with his hands。 But
nothing did any good。
All of Singer's money was gone and he had to borrow from the
jeweler for whom he worked。 On one occasion he was unable
to pay bail for bis friend and Antonapoulos spent the night in
jail。 When Singer came to get him out the next day he was
very sulky。 He did not want to leave。 He had enjoyed his
dinner of sowbelly and cornbread with syrup poured over it。
And the new sleeping arrangements and his cellmates pleased
him。
They had lived so much alone that Singer had no one to help
him in his distress。 Antonapoulos let nothing disturb him or
cure him of his habits。 At home he sometimes cooked the new
dish he had eaten in the jail； and on the streets there was never
any knowing just what he would do。
And then the final trouble came to Singer。
One afternoon he had come to meet Antonapoulos at the fruit
store when Charles Parker handed him a letter。 The letter
explained that Charles Parker had made arrangements for his
cousin to be taken to the state insane asylum two hundred
miles away。 Charles Parker had used his influence in the town
and the details were already settled。 Antonapoulos was to
leave and to be admitted into the asylum the next； week。
Singer read the letter several times； and for a while he could
not think。 Charles Parker was talking to him across the
counter； but he did not even try to read his lips and
understand。 At last Singer wrote on the little pad he always
carried in his pocket：
You cannot do this。 Antonapoulos must stay with me。
Charles Parker shook his head excitedly。 He did not know
much American。 'None of your business；' he kept saying over
and over。
7
Singer knew that everything was finished。 The Greek was
afraid that some day he might be responsible for his cousin。
Charles Parker did not know much about the American
language—but he understood the American dollar very well；
and he had used his money and influence to admit his cousin
to the asylum without delay。
There was nothing Singer could do。
The next week was full of feverish activity。 He talked and
talked。 And although his hands never paused to rest he could
not tell all that he had to say。 He wanted to talk to
Antonapoulos of all the thoughts that had ever been in his
mind and heart； but there was not time。 His gray eyes glittered
and his quick； intelligent face expressed great strain。
Antonapoulos watched him drowsily； and his friend did not
know just what he really understood。
Then came the day when Antonapoulos must leave。 Singer
brought out Ms own suitcase and very carefully packed the
best of their joint possessions。 Antonapoulos made himself a
lunch to eat during the journey。 In the late afternoon they
walked arm in arm down the street for the last time together。 It
was a chilly afternoon in late November； and little huffs of
breath showed in the air