Anything else?”
“Bill Duffy, if you like.”
“It’s a nice name.” She leant against the doorway, the door pulled against her fat hip.
Duffy stood there, putting his personality over on a short wave. “It’s an old family name,” he said modestly and grinned.
She raised her eyebrows. “So?”
Duffy moved a little her way until he leant against the wall, touching her shoulder. “We Duffys go for red-heads,” he said.
She raised her chin. Her lips invited his. “Yes?” she said.
He touched her lips with his. A long green arm slid round his neck and pulled his head down. She did not close her eyes and when he looked into them he tried to jerk his head away, but she held him hard. Stormy, hungry wild eyes she had. He stood there, his mouth crushed on hers, startled by her fierceness. She suddenly drove her teeth into his top lip. The pain stung him, and he pushed her away violently, starting back with an angry oath. She stood looking at him, her red-gold hair wild, and her eyes big and dark, stormy with passion. She took a step back and slammed the door in his face.
Duffy stood there, dabbing his lip with his handkerchief.
“That dame’s gonna let herself go one day,” he said to himself, “and when she does, she’s going to make a meal of someone.”