“I wouldn’t know,” he said. “Maybe you can trade it in for a fur coat, if you want a fur coat.”
I tapped him on his chest. “Listen, my fine friend,” I said, “I’ve taken bigger guys than you and made tomato juice out of them.”
He looked interested, surprised.
“Who, for instance?”
Clair joined us.
“How are you going?” she asked me.
“Fine,” I said. “I was just about to smack this punk’s ears down. His manners come out of a zoo.”
The thickset man regarded Clair with goggling eyes. He simpered at her.
“Would you please let us in ?” she said, smiling at him. “I’ve heard so much about Joe’s.”
“Sure,” he said, standing aside, “come right in.” He caught my eyes, said: “Put the heep down that alley. If a cop spots it here he’ll have you for obstruction.”