“Merde I got to go to work.”
“I’ll go over to Hell’s Kitchen an see if I can find May.”
“Don’t be a fool an spend all your money,” said Emile who stood at the cracked mirror with his face screwed up, fastening the buttons in the front of a clean boiled shirt.
“It’s a sure thing I’m tellin yer,” said the man again and again, bringing his face close to Ed Thatcher’s face and rapping the desk with his flat hand.
“Maybe it is Viler but I seen so many of em go under, honest I dont see how I can risk it.”
“Man I’ve hocked the misses’s silver teaset and my diamond ring an the baby’s mug.... It’s a sure sure thing.... I wouldn’t let you in on it, xept you an me’s been pretty good friends an I owe you money an everythin.... You’ll make twentyfive percent on your money by tomorrow noon.... Then if you want to hold you can on a gamble, but if you sell three quarters and hold the rest two or three days on a chance you’re safe as ... as the Rock of Gibraltar.”
“I know Viler, it certainly sounds good....”
“Hell man you dont want to be in this damned office all your life, do you? Think of your little girl.”
“I am, that’s the trouble.”