“You’re a smart guy,” Pugsey said. “Isn’t he a smart guy?” he went on to the girl. “Jakie always gets to the root of anything. You see, he wants to know why. You tell us.”
The girl looked away without speaking.
“She’s in a trance again,” Pugsey said, shifting a little nearer. “I don’t think she likes you, Jakie.”
Jakie sat on the ground and leant back on his elbows. The girl was between the two of them. He selected a long blade of grass and put it between his teeth. “What the hell’s the matter with me?” he asked. “Why shouldn’t she like me?”
Pugsey considered this. “Maybe you smell or something,” he suggested, after some thought.
Jakie picked his nose. “Ask her,” he said.
“What’s wrong with Jakie?” Pugsey asked, looking at the girl. “That’s a fair question, ain’t it?”
She made a move as if she were going to get up, but the two suddenly became very tense, looking at her coldly with their hard little eyes, and she relaxed again against the tree. She looked rather desperately across the park, but she could see no one.
The two followed her gaze. “Too early,” Jakie said. “We’re lucky to find you, I guess. Do you know, Pugsey, she reminds me of that little judy we ran into a couple of weeks ago on Franklin Street.”
“The one we took into that empty house?” Pugsey asked.