Her eyes flashed, but she managed to control her temper. “Don’t get sore, honey,” she said. “I want you to have a good tune.”
“That makes two of us,” I said, manoeuvring her so we passed close to Hoskiss. He eyed us over, said in a loud voice to the redhead: “Extraordinary types you get in here. That fellow would look more at home in a cage.” He seemed to be enjoying himself; the red-head too.
“Let’s go upstairs,” the blonde said, suddenly, impatiently. “It’s too hot to dance.”
“Sure,” I said, and we danced over to the door.
I caught Hoskiss’s eye. He looked reproachful.
I winked, waved and followed the blonde out of the room. She ran up a steep flight of stairs, along a passage.
I followed her into a small room furnished with a divan, a cupboard and a carpet.
She stood by the divan, eyed me expectantly.
“You’re not going to be mean, are you, honey?” she said.
I reached inside my pocket, produced three five-dollar bills, dangled them before her.