Roxy thought he was lying, but he wasn’t sure.
Myra said, “Look, honey, can you work Roxy in your outfit?”
Dillon hesitated a moment, then he nodded. “Sure, I’d be glad to. Suppose you come down to the office tomorrow an’ let’s talk it over.”
Roxy was impressed in spite of himself. This Dillon was certainly a big shot now. He nodded. “I guess I’ll blow,” he said. “You two want to eat.”
Myra saw him to the door. “Good, night, Roxy,” she said. “Don’t you worry. He’ll find you a job. We owe you somethin.”
Roxy tipped his hat and grinned, then he let himself out of the apartment.
Myra came back. “Suppose we have somethin’ to eat right here?” she said. “It’s too late to go out.”
Dillon was lying back in a chair, his eyes half shut. “You go ahead, I’ve had somethin’.”
Myra stood looking at him, her mind suddenly suspicious. She started to say something, but changed her mind. She went into the kitchen and cut a meat sandwich. She stood, leaning against the kitchen table, thinking. When she had finished the sandwich she went back into the other room.
Dillon had gone into the bedroom. She could hear the bathwater running. She finished her rye and lighted a cigarette. She stood waiting until she heard him go into the bathroom, then she walked over to the telephone and dialled a number.