"All right, if you want to throw money away it's not my fault."
He took the leather cup and rolled a pair of sixes. Peter slammed the dice down and four aces and a five danced out.
"No more," said Peter. "It's no use. That's $95 you owe me."
"Would you mind if I held you up on that till next week? I'm sort of busted just now."
"No hurry, anytime'll do."
"Ninety-five, that's right, isn't it? Lend me $5 that'll make it an even hundred. Easier to remember."
Peter gave him the five. He knew that even in his gambling triumphs there would be some catch. Wandering over to the bar alone he had two Martinis and then a Bronx but nothing seemed to happen. Looking at his watch he found that it was still only a little after three and he went up town to Fourteenth Street to a burlesque house. The show was called "Dave Shean's Joy Girls." When Peter came in Shean as a German comedian with a false stomach and a red wig had just volunteered to take the place of the bullfighter played by the straight man.
"Do you think you can kill the bull?" asked the straight man.
"I don't know dot I kills him," said Shean, "but I can throw him."
It annoyed Peter that everybody else in the theatre laughed so loudly.