"Other girls had the pickings before I met him. There was nothing left for me but the name."
"Is that the only one you use?" asked Hugh.
"Oh, come, now," she remonstrated. "There's a flag of truce up. Really, though, if you mention our opposition, I ought to compliment you on your work so far. I believe you might elude any mob but ours."
"We'll leave the decision on that point to the future," smiled Nikka. "By the way, how did you come to get into this game?"
She shrugged her shoulders again. She was an odd mixture of Latin grace and American ease.
"It's the sort of thing I do best. My folks were Wops of some kind. I was born in New York. I went with crooks after I left school. Then I joined the Follies, and a broker cottoned to me. He educated me, music, languages, all that stuff. I went to Paris with him. When we broke off, I tried the stage there. It was just before the War. I was only a kid still, and Cespedes fell for me. After he croaked I tried a bit of everything. For a while I worked for the Austrians—"
"Spy?" questioned Nikka.
"Sure. There's no harm in mentioning it now, and anyway, I was never caught. That was how I happened to meet Serge and Sandra; they were in Toutou's mob. I needed money; he needed brains and a doll-baby face."
"You seem to have a grip on him," I said. "But I don't see how you can stand the beast. He gives me the creeps."
She eyed me curiously.