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"Smokes in here, huh? Tie that for me, pal." It was dark in there. It was quiet. From up above came vague sounds of humanity, but we were alone on the stairs. The big man stared at me with a naughty amateur com sort of ecstatic fixity of expression, like a hunky immigrant catching his first sight of the dimness and took hold of my shoulder and squashed it to a pulp. Then the hand moved me through the doors and casually lifted me up a step. The large face looked at me. A deep soft voice said to me, quietly: "Smokes in here, huh? Tie that for me, pal." It was dark in there. It was quiet. From up above came vague sounds of humanity, but we were alone on the stairs. The big naughty amateur com man stared at me solemnly and went on wrecking my shoulder with his hand. "A dinge," naughty amateur com he said. "Little Velma. I ain't seen her in eight years. You say this here is a dinge joint?" I croaked that it was. He lifted me up a step. The large naughty amateur com face looked at me. A deep soft voice said to me, quietly: . |
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