“Do or die,” he said, “she’ll have to wear ’em! What’s next? Stockings?”
“Here they are.”
“These green ones will do the work. And now—”
“Corsets?”
He indicated a model bust clad in a formidable corset.
Carrigan sighed.
“Friend,” he said, “did you ever hear about the days when men wore armor?”
“Yes.”
“When I’m dancin’ with a girl that wears one of them things, I feel as if I had my arms around a man in armor. Anything else?”
A malicious light gleamed in the eyes of the proprietor.