"But surely a man of his type must have enemies in high places as well as friends—"
"Maybe so; but they're not in the saddle just now; we'll have to be patient and wait for New York to pull another of its periodical spasms of civic virtue before an ordinary dick like me can go out after the likes of Morphew without hearing a still small voice whispering at his shoulder, if he cares anything about his job he'd better lay off. Remember that time we raided the Clique Club? That had a follow-up that still sticks in my crop . . ."
"But if Morphew were actually caught, as you say, with the goods on—"
"That's different: prove anything on that bird and outraged public sentiment will do the rest."
"Do you happen to know where he lives?"
Crane recited the address in sulky abstraction from which he emerged abruptly with a gleam of alarm. "Look here! don't tell me you're simp enough to dream of starting anything with Morphew—"
"My dear friend: I never was, it was Morphew took the offensive with me, unprovoked—"
"And you're a glutton for punishment, eh?"
"Do you take me for one to endure such malice without striking a blow for self-respect? What way I shall take with the animal I am as yet undecided, I count on events to show it to me; and now I count on something more—your passive countenance, at least."
"Oh, don't worry! I won't ever come between you two; and if I ever see a chance to land on Morphew when he isn't looking, because he's too busy keeping his guard up against you—you can bet your life I'll do it. All the same, if you'll take a fool's advice, you'll quit right now, admit you're licked and let it go at that."