"Answer me!" Malone said.
"All right," Dorothea said. "You must know anyhow, since you're here…. Yes, I'm looking for that fatheaded brother of mine. But now I suppose it's too late. He'll—he'll go to prison."
Her voice broke. Malone found his shoulder suddenly occupied by a crying face.
"No," he said quickly. "No. Please. He won't."
"Really?"
Boyd whispered: "Malone, what is this? It's a hell of a place for a date. And I—"
"Oh, shut up," Malone told him in a kindly fashion. He turned back to Dorothea. "I promise he won't," he said. "If I can just talk to your brother, make him listen to reason, I think we can get him and the others off. Believe me."
"But you—"
"Please," Malone said. "Believe me."
"Oh, Ken," Dorothea said, raising her head. "Do you mean it?"