“Thank you, Angel.”
“What for? I mean every word of it. Don’t let old Rance McCoy worry yuh.”
“Does he think you played a crooked game?”
“What if he does?”
“Don’t you want the respect of your father, Angel?”
“What good will it do me? The respect of Rance McCoy!”
“You are a queer son, Angel.”
“Am I? Well, I’m what I am—and I’m satisfied.”
“Satisfied to be known as a cheat?”
Angel laughed angrily.