I went out into the street. A tall dame in black. A feeling of excitement surged through me. I wouldn’t let my mind think for the moment. I’d wait and see this dame for myself.
The corner of 10th was deserted when I arrived. The whole street was in semi-gloom. The street lights were widely spaced and none of the shops carried lights. I thought it was a pretty poor place to find trade, but maybe she knew her job better than I did.
I stood on the corner and lit a cigarette. I stood there for five minutes. I knew it was five minutes because I was so fidgety that I kept my eyes constantly on my watch.
Then, just when I was losing patience, she came out of the gloom. I heard the slow click of wooden heels some time before I saw her and I stiffened, throwing my cigarette into the gutter. Dimly I could see her, moving deliberately towards me, a tall, shadowy figure in black.
I half-turned towards her, so that she could have no mistake as to my intentions. I watched the white blur that was her face eagerly for the first glimpse of her features.
She saw me waiting there, and her step slowed. One hand went to her hip, and she put on a slight sway as she dawdled towards me.
When she was close, I smelt her. The same heady scent that I had smelt in my bedroom. I felt grimly elated; so this was the dame who’d lifted five grand off me.
“Hello,” she said, stopping at my elbow. She was nearly as tall as I was, and her big black hat screened her face. I could just make out her rather pointed chin and the sparkle in her eyes.
I said, “Hello, good-lookin’, how’s tricks?”
She gave that throaty, purring laugh that Mae West had made popular. “Are you coming home with me, darlin’?” she said, putting one gloved hand on my sleeve.