The woman looked up suspiciously, then read the card:
“Nell: This fellow is all right. Bring him along. I have a use for him. Hastily,
Andy.”
“Who gave you this?” Nell demanded, gazing again, but less suspiciously.
Chick had taken a chance that she was to rejoin Margate later, or would know where to find him.
“Oh, get wise, get wise, kid,” he said significantly. “Matt Gaffney sent me in, or Andy Margate, if that hits you any better. Can’t you read it?”
“Why didn’t he come in with you?”
“He hadn’t time,” Chick glibly explained. “He was spieling to two blokes in a taxi. He sent them away and was in a big rush himself. He said you’d know what to do when you saw his note. What am I up against, anyway?”
Chick began to scowl—and the woman then began to laugh. She had taken just enough liquor to feel silly, and want more.
“He wants me to bring you out, eh?” she asked.