"Be tranquil, compañero. All in good time. When you and the woman leave, Pepe and I shall put the remains of this dog in a laundry basket and get it out of here." Vicente looked at Jerry. "And I think you had better get her out of this room. She is going to get sick if she stays here."
"You're right." Hall gave Jerry his hand. "Come on, nurse," he smiled. "We're going to my room. This is no place for a lady." He helped her to her feet.
She held her hand out to Vicente. "You are very sweet," she said. "Usted mucho dulce. Understand?"
"Understand," he laughed. He kissed her hand.
Hall had a bottle of brandy in his room. He poured two stiff drinks for Jerry and himself. "Feel any better?" he asked.
"It was awful for a few minutes. I was afraid he would kill you."
"So was I, baby. I was afraid he'd kill me before I ever got around to telling you how I felt. About you, I mean."
"How do you feel about me?"
He filled the glasses again. "Still think I'm a cop?"
"I don't care. I guess you aren't, though."