"Go ahead—'phone 'em," she heard Carey's voice interrupt.
The other's changed to a whine.
"Aw, be sensible, Carey! You're soused now, or you wouldn't be such a fool. Why not slip me a li'l jack and let it go at that? You don't want the bulls comin' in on this."
Clancy stared at Sophie. The wife walked to the door.
"Don!" she called. "Who's down-stairs?"
"You 'tend to your own affairs," came her husband's answer. "Shut your door, and your mouth, too."
Mrs. Carey seemed to stagger under the retort. She sat down again. She turned to Clancy, licking her lips with her tongue.
"Please—please——" she gasped, "see—who it is—with Don."
Down-stairs Clancy tiptoed. Voices were raised again in altercation.
"Why the deuce should I give you money?" demanded Carey. "Suppose I did run a fake agency for the pictures? Suppose I did promise a few girls jobs that they never got? What about it? You can't dig any of those girls up. Run tell the police."