"Getaway, I know you're up to something. You and Monkey and Muggs are tied up with those Wall Street bond getaways."
"For the luvagod, cut that talk here! First thing I know you'll have me in a brainstorm too."
"Those fake messenger boys that get themselves hired and, instead of delivering the bonds from one office to another—disappear with them. Muggs isn't wearing that messenger's uniform for nothing. You and Monkey are working with him under cover on something. You can't pass a cop any more without tightening up. I can feel it when I have your arm. You've got that old over-your-shoulder look to you, Getaway. My father—had it. My—mother—too. Getaway!"
"By gad! you can't beat a woman!"
"You don't deny it."
"I do!"
"Oh, Getaway, I'm glad then, glad!"
"Over-the-shoulder look. Why, if I'd meet a plain-clothes this minute I'd go up and kiss him—with my teeth in his ear. That's how much I got to be afraid of."
"Oh, Getaway, I'm so glad!"
"Well, then, lay off—"