Lou looked over her way. He took notice of her glum expression.
      
       'You know, Lou,' she began, shifting around on the grey metal bench. She could never get comfortable on that bench. She admired god for his subtle irony; That since she'd caused quite a bit of people quite a bit of discomfort she'd have to suffer the rest of her life in discomfort.
       'I used to be a real looker. All the junkies would have their eyes on me, and most of the betting gentlemen at the poolroom, too. I had it made back then. I didn't have  much of my own, but if I asked any of the betting gentlemen who seemed interested they'd have bought me a freaking strawberry cake.' Her expression was full of pride.

       'Yea, Shelly, you were really something.'

       Shelly's expression turned woeful again.
       'I really blew it, didn't I?'

       'Yea, Shelly, you did,' Lou agreed. 'But you were really something there for a while, don't you forget that.'

       'Oh, I know that Lou, I know.' Shelly smiled warmly at him. 'I'll never forget that.'

       Lou had been lying on the top bunk of the bed. For some reason he'd just got down and started walking around the cell.

       'Lou, you know that you were always my favourite right?'

       'Yea, yea.' Lou chuckled. 'But you had a lot of favourites.'

       'No, Lou.' Her expression was suddenly very serious. 'You were my favourite. You were the only one that was a real gentleman, Lou. And that's something you'd better not forget.'

       He smiled at her.
       'I won't, Shelly. I promise. Anyway, I know we'll both remember. We wouldn't dare forget.'

       'You know, Lou. You were a real looker too.' She looked out through the bars at the feet of some people passing by. 'You still are. You know, for our age.'

       'I guess.'

       Shelly's expression once again turned glum as she looked down at the floor.
       'I really blew it, didn't I?'

       'Yea, Shelly. You did.'