‘Mr Kile hasn’t been in yet, has he?’ he asked Schmidt casual y. ‘I’ve been in the bar and I might have missed him.’
‘He hasn’t been in yet, sir,’ Schmidt said cool y. He had had a lot of experience of the men and women who came to the club, and he prided himself on spotting the wrong one. He hadn’t any use for Gillis; a sponger if ever there was one.
Gillis went into the gentlemen’s retiring room. He washed his hands under the disapproving eyes of the Negro attendant who knew from experience he wasn’t going to be tipped, poured lavender water on a towel and touched his temples with it. While he was combing his blond hair, the door pushed open and Dallas wandered in.
He stood near Gillis and began to wash his hands. Their eyes met in the mirror and Dallas grinned.
‘That red-head I’m with is trying to take me to the cleaners,’ he said breezily. ‘I guess you wouldn’t know if I am wasting my time and money?’
Gillis switched on his charm. It was remarkable how his face changed when he smiled. He looked almost boyish; certainly not twenty-five, and the worn-out look of dissipation seemed to melt away.
‘You’re on to a good thing,’ he said. ‘Zoe rates a little high, but she doesn’t shirk her responsibilities.
If she asks you home, you go. Of her kind, she’s unique.’
Dallas, who had seen the by-play at the bar, took out his cigarette-case and offered it.
‘As good as that, is she? I’m obliged to you. This is my first visit here, and I didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot. I’m in town for a couple of weeks on business, and this seemed the place to come to.’