“You mean Mr. Pawling?”
“Yeh. Who the hell is that duck what inks his whiskers?”
“A partner.”
“Well, let him shove us ours then.”
“You wish to ruin me?” inquired Puma placidly.
“Not while you’re milkin’,” said Sondheim, showing every yellow fang in a grin.
“Then do not frighten Mr. Pawling out. Already you have scared my other partner, Mr. Skidder, like there never was any rabbits scared. You are foolish. If you are reasonable, I shall make money and you 289 shall have your share. If you are not, then there is no money to give you.”
Sondheim said: “Take a slant at them yellow-backs, Karl.” And Kastner screwed a powerful jeweller’s glass into his eye and began a minute examination of the orange-coloured treasury notes, to find out whether they were marked bills.
Bromberg said heavily: “See here, Angelo, you gotta quit this damned stalling! You gotta get them women out, and do it quick or we’ll blow your dirty barracks into the North River!”
Sondheim began to wag his soiled forefinger again.