“Changed your mind about knowing me awfully well?” she said, watching me intently.
“I guess not,” I said. “I’ll keep trying. Did I tell you about the red head I met in New Orleans?”
“You don’t have to,” she said, scrambling to her feet, “I can imagine it,”
“Not this red head,” I returned, looking up at her. “She had a figure like an hour glass. Boy! Did she make every minute count!”
She began moving slowly towards the Cadillac. “So you’re not going to help me?” she said.
“Not after I’ve been nice to you?”
“What’s wrong?” I got to my feet and we both walked towards the Cadillac. “You were feeling fine about it this morning.”
“I’ve thought about it,” she said, getting into the car. “I don’t like the idea any more.”
“Give it a chance,” I urged, feeling the heat coming at me from off the dusty road. “Be big minded about it.”
“What are you getting out of it?” she said, starting the engine “You’re selling it too hard to be disinterested.”