He reached down and roughly pulled her to her feet. Swaying drunkenly she grabbed his arm, her long, gnarled fingers hanging on to him like the talons of a hawk. "Frankie, she shouted, please come with me… please."

"You rotten drunk, for God's sake, pull yourself together and get the hell out of here."

"Why don't you believe me," she sobbed. "I only did it to get you back. Please believe me… please!" Her voice was shaking and shrill. "Torchy said that Cynthia has left you, so you're free. Free! Please come with me, I'll do anything you say, I promise."

Frankie looked at her disgustedly and spat out at her, "So Cynthia has left me, has she?" He took her by the shoulders and swung her around. "Well, look right over there, you raving maniac," he yelled, pointing at Cynthia who was standing spellbound in the doorway. "See for yourself, Cindy is right here and what's more, we're getting married immediately!"

In the sudden silence that followed Cynthia stared at Frankie, surprise and joy welling up in her heart. "Oh Frankie," she gasped, "you mean really get married? You really mean it?"

He walked over to her and took her in his arms, cradling her like you would a child.

"Of course, darling. I don't want to lose you again!" he murmured.

Gypsy glared at the two of them and began to gather her belongings where they lay on the coffee table. "Well," she muttered, "I guess that Torchy was wrong, but believe me Frankie I wasn't kidding about what I said earlier, they are coming to get you!"

Cynthia looked up at Frankie and his hand brushed over the thick mane of her hair, and kissed the nape of her neck gently.

"What's that all about, Frankie," she implored, her eyes showing their concern for him and her love.