"Well, I'm the person all right. You know that now. Oh, won't you please hurry? Don't you see how things are here?"
"I seen enough to make me want to go slow."
"You're going slow all right. What more do you want to know? I talked to the man you're telling me about and he said he'd see what he could do."
Her replies came with the rapidity of musketry, but Schultz spoke with stubborn deliberation.
"Was that all he told you?"
"Sure it was."
"Nothin' more?"
"No.—Can't you hurry? Can't you believe me?—He didn't say no more.—Quick!—Oh, yes, he said he'd talk to his girl Katie about me.—Quick!—Hush-t! Here she comes!"
Cassie's step sounded only a few yards away, but Schultz, now apparently satisfied of Violet's identity, displayed an unlooked for speed. The heavy hand that had been clumsily reposing in the bulging side-pocket of his coat shot free. Violet seized a fist that opened and withdrew as her own fingers closed on a bit of paper.
Cassie entered to find them the width of the kitchen apart. Violet was pouring herself a drink of whiskey into a soiled glass, and, if her hand trembled, the silk swathed back that was presented to the servant hid all tokens of nervousness.