He lay on his deathbed. I always loved you, he whispered to her. She kissed him. You used to smell so much nicer, she said. And then he died

Then there was no money left and the bartender said, Go home, and he pulled down his pants and slept a contented sleep on a hard bed in jail

She laughed when he used the word “athwart” but thinking about it was appalled by his total pretension and blamed the alcohol on everything.