"Twenty," said Bill.
"I ain't!" protested Mary.
But the sailor shot her an ugly look.
"Close your trap," he told her, and then, to Big Lou, he repeated: "Twenty."
Big Lou picked up the lamp and, holding it in one blackened claw, passed the other over Mary, with dexterous appraisement, from shoulders to knees.
"I'll give you a five-spot for her," she croaked.
"You'll go to the devil," retorted Bill.
"Six?"
"Ten."
"You're a damned thief, Stevens, that's what you are," growled the old woman. "I'll give you seven, an' not another God damned cent."