He went out in the road and looked up and down, but he couldn’t see a taxi. “We can walk to the end of the road,” he said; “we’ll get a lift there.”
She turned out the lights and slammed the door. They walked down the street together. Duffy felt his feet were pressing into cotton wool. She said nothing until they reached the end of the road, then she said in a small voice, “Thank you.”
Duffy flagged a cab. He helped her in and gave the driver McGuire’s address. Then he got in and sat beside her. He still had the apple-jack in one hand and her suit-case in the other.
“Don’t you worry about that, sister. I was so scared I didn’t think about you.” He uncorked the bottle, and took another long swig. Then he looked at her suspiciously and said, “This stuff won’t give me Screaming-meemies, will it?”
She turned her face away from him and began to cry.
Duffy fell asleep.
CHAPTER VIII
WHEN SAM OPENED the door and saw them, his eyes popped.
Duffy came into the room, pushing past Sam. Olga hesitated, then followed Duffy. Sam shut the door and stood there scratching his head. He was in green pyjamas and a yellow bathrobe.
Duffy said, “Don’t mind him. He ain’t so sissy as he looks.”