“Meet me at the stage door in an hour,” she said, crossed the room and opened the door. “I have to change.”
“That’s okay. I’ve grown up,” Louie said. “I’ll stick around and watch.”
“You’ll get out!” she said curtly. “You don’t own me, Louie, and I don’t have men in my room when I change.”
“I don’t own you — yet, baby,” he said, “but I will.”
He drifted through the doorway, turned and leered at her.
“If you’re as good as you look, you’re good,” he said.
She shut the door in his face.
For some moments she stood motionless, breathing with difficulty, then she opened the door again and made sure he had gone.
She shut the door, turned the key and went quickly over to the telephone.
She knew Sean O’Brien was at his club. After a minute or so he came on the line.