"That was Sassoon with you, eh?"
"Albert Edward himself, Blainey," she answered, with an accented note of pride. She knew the man she was dealing with. Brutal and contemptuous to innocence, but bowing down with a sneaking admiration to the woman who played the game and won out, not for a moment did he doubt that she was of the shrewdest and the most unprincipled. And this conviction stood like a shield before her in this room where other women had gone in with a shrug.
"Sassoon, eh?" he said admiringly, and he gave vent to a long whistle. "Well, trim 'em, kid, trim 'em!"
"That's what I'm doing, Blainey, and the finest!"
She took his accents, almost the contemptuous abruptness of his gestures, transforming herself into his world.
"When are you going to get tired of all that?" he said, his eyes narrowing covetously. "It's a short game. This is longer, safer."
"When? Pretty soon, Blainey."
"Why not now?"
She shook her head, laughing.