“Thought it was money matters—his stinginess, you know.”
“He wasn’t stingy! He wouldn’t give me an allowance, but he was generous in every other way. And that’s why—”
“Why you came to my ‘gambling house’ to try to pick up a little ready cash! I know. But now looky here, Eunice, you’ve got to decide—either you’re with me or agin me! I won’t have any blow hot, blow cold! You’re friends with Fifi Desternay—or—she’s your enemy!”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I say! You like me, you’ve always liked me. Now, stand by me, and I’ll stand by you.”
“How?”
“You think I can’t! Well, madame, you’re greatly mistaken! That big blundering fool of a detective person has been to see me—”
“Shane?”
“The same. And—he grilled me pretty thoroughly as to our going to see ‘Hamlet’ and whether we talked the poison scene over—and so forth and so on. In a word, Eunice Embury, I hold your life in my hands!”
Fifi held out her pretty little hands, dramatically. She still stood, her white fur scarf hanging from one shoulder, her small turban of red breast feathers cocked at a jaunty angle above her straight brows, and one tiny slippered foot tapping decidedly on the floor.