After that it didn’t seem to matter. When he turned to pick up the gun, she was before him She took it up very carefully by the barrel.
“I’m your gun moll,” she said, her mouth smiling “I want to carry it.” She slipped it into a leather bag she had slung from her shoulder. Then she went up to him “Kiss me,” she said.
They left the flat a few minutes before eight-thirty. It was a sultry night; the sky was cloudless, but there was the smell of rain in the air.
They Joined Sydney in the street a few moments later.
There was a smear of lipstick on George’s mouth and he seemed bemused.
None of them spoke. Cora walked stiffly because of the whip she had thrust down the leg of her slacks. George was between the two of them, and it seemed to him that they were his jailers.
They turned down an alley and into a little courtyard. A dark green Ford coupe was standing round the corner, out of sight from the mouth of the alley.
Sydney unlocked the door and slid under the wheel. Cora got in at the hack.
“Come on,” she said to George, who was hesitating.
He got into the car beside her and slammed the door.