She shut up and started cooking.
Lowry said, musingly, “This is going to take a little figuring.”
“If you think you’re going to move one step out of this apartment while he’s here, you’re crazy,” she said.
“That’s what’s bothering me,” Lowry admitted. “How I can swing this thing. I want to get hold of Bob Elgin, but — I don’t want him to find you here.”
There was silence for a while. Then Lowry said, “I could give you a gun, Babe. You could hold it on him. You could sit right there, and…”
“I tell you, I won’t be in this room with him when you’re not here. I don’t care how many guns you give me.” Lowry tried thinking things over.
I said, “You could tag along with me, Lowry, and make some dough.”
“How come?”
I said, “Why don’t you grow up? You don’t want to be a night-club bouncer all your life.”
“It ain’t what you want in this world that makes you fat. It’s what you get,” Lowry said.