“Hush! can't you?” snapped LeGrand Blossom.
“Pooh! What's the harm? There's no one in this lonely place! It gives me the creeps. Li'l ole Broadway for mine!”
“You never know who's anywhere these days!” muttered LeGrand. “That infernal detective seems to be all over. He looks at me—oh, he looks at me, and I don't like it.”
Morocco Kate laughed.
“Shut up!” ordered the head clerk. “Do you think this is funny?”
“It used to be,” was the answer. “It used to be funny, when you thought you were in love with me. Oh, it was delicious!”
“I was a bigger fool than I ever thought I'd be!” growled LeGrand Blossom.
“You aren't the only one,” was the consoling answer. “But what I'm interested in now, is—did you bring the mazumma—the cush—the dope?”
“All I could get,” was the answer. “I'm in a devil of a mess, and the estate hasn't been settled yet. I may get some more out of it then, but you'll have to quit bleeding me. I'm through with you, I tell you!”
“But I'm not with you,” was the sharp rejoinder. “I'll take this now, but I'll need more. The game isn't going as it used to. Mind, I'll need more, and soon.”