She put her mouth against his neck. “Best of all?” she asked, taking a little of his skin between her teeth.
He pressed her to him and said, “Sure, best of all.”
They stood there for a long time, just holding each other. Duffy liked the feel of her hair against his face. Then he pushed her away gently, holding her at arm’s length. “I wonder if we’ve been crazy, going for a gang like Morgan’s,” he said. “I could get a job right now, and we could settle down.”
“Play Gleason and we’ll skip,” she said.
Duffy shrugged. He walked over to his bags and closed them, pulling the straps down hard. “Yeah,” he said, “you ain’t Alice, are you?”
She looked puzzled. “Alice?” she said. “Who’s Alice?”
Duffy grinned at her, but his mind was not with her.
“Oh, nothing—she’s a sucker. Dough don’t mean a thing to her. It’s love in a poorhouse with her.”
Olga shrugged. “That type’s nearly dead,” she said a little scornfully, “but you find ’em sometimes.”
Duffy stood looking round the room, holding the bags in either hand. He stood there so long that Olga touched his arm.