“What’s the matter with all these?” she demanded as they walked past the unoccupied spaces nearer the street. “Are they reserved for people who earn a living?”
She’ll never let up, he thought. She’ll never let up as long as she lives. But she’ll let up pretty soon now.
Aloud he said, “This whole place’ll be filled up in about two minutes, and when the picture’s over the whole mob will be banging fenders trying to be the first ones out, while we’re just breezing away.”
“Yeah, you can’t afford to stall around here,” she said. “You’ve got so many important things to do.”
Conway looked at her, startled, but on her face was only the pleased expression that indicated her satisfaction with a gratifyingly nasty dig. But he was worried; he dared not antagonize her. Something could still go wrong.
As he bought the tickets, she looked suspiciously at the empty lobby. Conway was about to hand them to the doorman when she spoke.
“What time does the show start?”
“Seven-thirty, ma’am.”
She looked at her watch. It was, as Conway knew only too well, seven-nineteen.
“What’s on now?”