“Like Paris?” asked the Kid.
“Not this way,” said Andrews.
“Say, one of the guys said you could parlay French real well. I want you to teach me. A guy's got to know languages to get along in this country.”
“But you must know some.”
“Bedroom French,” said the Kid, laughing.
“Well?”
“But if I want to write a movie scenario for an Eytalian firm, I can't just write 'voulay-vous couchezavecmoa' over and over again.”
“But you'll have to learn Italian, Kid.”
“I'm goin' to. Say, ain't they taking us a hell of a ways today, Skinny?”
“We're goin' to Passy Wharf to unload rock,” said somebody in a grumbling voice.