Sam shrugged. “Search me,” he said, “my girl might know.”
Duffy stepped to the door quickly and Sam, a puzzled look on his face, followed him. “Did you see that guy come out just now?” Duffy asked the blonde.
She said, “Sure I did. That’s Murray Gleason. Ain’t he cute?”
Duffy blotted his lace with his handkerchief. “I couldn’t say,” he said, “we were a bit shy with each other.”
Sam put his arms round the blonde. “Ain’t this a grand place?” he said. He was pretty drunk.
Duffy said, “I want to get out of here.”
A white-headed little guy came through the hall, heading for the toilet. Sam took the blonde over to him. “Take care of this baby,” he said. “Show her round. She’s learning in a big way.”
The blonde wrapped the little guy in her arms and began to cry. The rum had her all ends up. Duffy walked out with Sam. The little guy’s face was a picture.
Outside, Duffy said, “You’re just hell to go places with.”
Sam waved his hands. “I guess I’m a little tight,” he said.