She took one of his hands. “Don’t tell me,” she said, “I know.”
Slugs pursed his mouth. This dame was hard-boiled all right, he thought. It was going to be mighty hard work to make her. “Like a ticket for one of my fights?” he said, trying the best trick of all his stock-in-trade. “There’ll be a grand show tomorrow an’ I can get you a ringside if you say the word.”
She was looking rather hopelessly at his hand. “What did you say?” she asked.
Slug heaved a heavy sigh and repeated his invitation.
“I don’t like fights,” she said, beginning to work on his nails. “But I could give the ticket to a friend of mine if you have one to spare.”
Slug blew out his cheeks. The crust of this dame, he thought. “Is that the long guy you float around with?” he asked.
Rose glanced up at him and then concentrated on his nails once more. “You seem to know a lot about me,” she said. “Harry is crazy about fights. He’ll be pleased to get the ticket.”
“Maybe he’ll get a fight too,” Slug snarled. “I don’t like guys like him.”
Rose arched her eyebrows. “I could hardly imagine you would,” she said coldly.
There was a long pause, then Slug, feeling that he was not gaining ground, said: “I’ll have a nice roll of dough after tonight, suppose you an’ me go somewhere an’ spend it?”