The White Hope nodded.
“Forget it!” said Steve. “Mamie is a queen, all right, believe me, but she’s got the wrong dope on this microbe proposition. You don’t need to be scared of them any more. Why, some of me best pals are germs.”
“What’s pals?”
“Why, friends. You and me are pals. Me and your pop are pals.”
“Where’s pop?”
“He’s gone away.”
“I remember.”
“He thought he needed a change of air. Don’t you ever need a change of air?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you do. Take it from me. This is about the punkest joint I ever was in. You don’t want to stay in a dairy-kitchen like this.”