“You’re awfully funny, Harvey,” Cohn said. “Some day somebody will push your face in.”
Harvey Stone laughed. “You think so. They won’t, though. Because it wouldn’t make any difference to me. I’m not a fighter.”
“It would make a difference to you if anybody did it.”
“No, it wouldn’t. That’s where you make your big mistake. Because you’re not intelligent.”
“Cut it out about me.”
“Sure,” said Harvey. “It doesn’t make any difference to me. You don’t mean anything to me.”
“Come on, Harvey,” I said. “Have another porto.”
“No,” he said. “I’m going up the street and eat. See you later, Jake.”
He walked out and up the street. I watched him