“Make it twenty-five,” Sellers said.
“No, ten,” Bertha said. “That’s my limit.”
“You’ve come down forty bucks.”
“You’ve changed your tune,” Bertha told him.
“Okay,” Sellers said, “I’ll bet you ten bucks. Get out of my way, sister. What’s behind this door?”
I could hear her struggling with Sellers. Sellers merely laughed.
“Damn you!” she panted. “You can’t do that. You…”
“Out of the way, sister, out of the way,” Sellers said.
The door latch clicked. The door swung open and the wall-bed pushed me out to one side.
“Well, well, well,” Sellers said. “First rattle out of the box. Come on out, Lam.”