I said, “Our share of that would be around twenty grand. Your cut would give you a chance to get in business for yourself, and buy some swell clothes for the redhead. She could go in pictures if she had the right backing.”
“Do you think I could?” the girl asked.
Lowry said, angrily, “You just go ahead and talk to me about the deal, Lam. Don’t spend my money for me. I’ll do my own spending.”
The redhead said angrily, “I believe you would cut me out it.”
“Shut up, Babe,” he ordered. “I want to think.”
In the period of silence which followed we could hear the ticking of the cheap tin alarm lock. The redhead finished the dishes, and hung up the dish-towel.
I held out my coffee cup, and she refilled it with the thick, black coffee that was at the bottom of the percolator.
“Warm it up for him, Babe,” Lowry said.
“This is all right,” I told him. “I like it this way.”
I sat holding the cup of coffee over the table.