“Yes, your house! I suppose you'd rather raise something on the house than have the thing come out in the papers.”
“Do you think so?” she asked, staring into his bloodshot eyes.
“Yes, I do. I'm damn sure of it!”
“You are wrong.”
“You mean that you are not inclined to stand by me?” he demanded.
“Yes, I mean that.”
“You don't intend to help me out?”
“I do not intend to—not this time.”
He began to show his big teeth, and that nervous snickering “tick” twitched his upper lip.
“How about the courts?” he sneered. “Do you want to figure in them with Plank?”