“What in the name of God’s the use of being so tight?” she demanded. “It’s not like it had to come out of your pocket. You’ve got an expense account, haven’t you?”

I didn’t say anything. She frowned at me, at the run in her stocking, and at Rolff. Then she said to him:

“Maybe he’d loosen up if he had a drink.”

The thin man got up and went out of the room.

She pouted at me, prodded my shin with her toe, and said:

“It’s not so much the money. It’s the principle of the thing. If a girl’s got something that’s worth something to somebody, she’s a boob if she doesn’t collect.”

I grinned.

“Why don’t you be a good guy?” she begged.