"Do you want to snatch her purse?"
"Do you suppose I want a hair pin, a pearl button, a scrap of verse, and a three-cornered piece of silk that no man can match? I mean, has she got any money in her own name?"
"I haven't asked her, but I think she has."
"Then leave me alone with her."
Bodney stood looking at him. There was a continuous fascination in the fellow's affrontery. "All right," he said, but quickly added: "We've got to go down town, you know. I'll step into the office and wait till she gets through with you. You may hypnotize me, but—"
Goyle cut him off with a gesture. "Nonsense! When she gets through with me! Cool, coming from a man whose honor I have saved at the risk of my own. But no cooler than the bullet you threatened me with."
"I wish I had given it to you," said Bodney.
"Do you? It's not too late, if you are bent on murder. But that's all right," he broke off, with a wave of the hand. "Leave me alone with her."
Bodney went out and Goyle sat down on a sofa, gazed at the girl, cleared his throat, coughed; but she did not look round. "What are you playing? May I ask?"
"You have asked," she replied, without looking round.