“Shut up!” Charlie barked out. “You’re just a lousy quim peddlin’ your stuff to any guy that’s got coffee and cake money in his pants. You ain’t gonna ruin the Bearcat an’ me too, if I have to frame you with the cops. An’ I can do it too. If you don’t lay off, I’ll use every goddam trick I know to railroad you to jail. I’ll get you picked up for hustling, I’ll plant dope on you an’ tip off the cops so’s you’ll get three years in stir!”

Suddenly Babe gave a shrill laugh.

“Why, you goddam low-down, ten-cent bum!” she cried, her eyes turning to flames of fury. “Think you can threaten me? Turn me in to the cops? Why, I know every cop from here to Harlem, and they’d do more for me for a smile than they’d do for you for all the money you could give ’em!”

Charlie was startled by her onslaught. He had expected her to cower under his threats but instead she was furiously lashing out at him.

“You got a hell of a nerve comin’ up here and insultin’ me, and then expecting me to do you a favor and give up the Bearcat.”

“I ain’t askin’ any favors, I’m tellin’ you what you got to do.”

“Did you think I’d fall for your cheap squawking? Take off your hat, goddam you! You ain’t even got enough etiquette to take it off in the presence of a lady. Take it off, I said, before I knock it off.”

Charlie was so taken aback, that he quickly removed his hat and sank into a nearby arm chair.

“If you’d have come up here in a decent way,” Babe continued, “and asked me in a nice manner to quit goin’ with the Bearcat, I might ’a’ thought it over. Now I say, no. The idea of a guy, as punk as you, comin’ to me with threats and insults, wanting me to give up a guy I really like.”

Charlie thought rapidly. He saw there was nothing to be gained by his former attitude so he tried another approach.

“You mean you really care about the Bearcat?” he asked in a quieter tone.

“That’s what I said, and I mean it,” Babe replied. “He’s too damn good a guy to be hangin’ on to a louse like you.”