“She ain’t on her own.” Bennet was suddenly angry. “God damn, look at the two of you. Not one fucking ball between you. That broad’s getting herself nailed right now. Could have been either one of you doing it if you’d had the guts. Jesus wept. A woman wants what you tell her she wants.”

“Why ain’t you gone for her, then?” Otto said.

“I’m a married man.”

Otto snorted.

“You got something to say?” Bennet stared at his foreman in a way that made all the men nervous.

Otto kept still, looking down and strumming the edge of his cards. He seemed completely cowed, but suddenly he looked up again, glanced around at the other men, and said, “Tell you what, I could sure go for a dog right now. Nice Polish. Good bit of fat on that. Sauerkraut, mustard. Nothing better than a good Polish, eh?”

No one reacted in any way except Sal, who stared at him like a man who has just been shocked out of a deep sleep.

The moment was swallowed painfully in silence. The men continued playing. Otto was soon four months’ wages in the hole. Then Bennet let him have $600 credit, with his truck as collateral.

After a while, laying down another set of winning cards, Bennet said, “Half the men in this room are virgins. Finn. Siggy’s good as a virgin—ten years and you’re a virgin. Magnus. Look at him, he’s got John Donne, whatever that is. He could shtup every woman this side of the Mason-Dixon, he’d still be a virgin. And poor Goldilocks here.”

“I’m not a virgin,” Goldwin said.

“Oh, yeah?” Otto cut in. “Then tell us which one’s the lucky redbone bitch?”

“Fuck you!” Goldwin was shaking. “Five dollars for a goddamn steak.”

Sal, who had clearly been working himself up for the last ten minutes, suddenly turned furiously to Otto. “What’s this, eh? What’s this Polish dog business, eh? Sauerkraut? Vaffanculo! Figlio di puttana!” His face went puce and he slammed his hand against the table. “Least my kids mine. Didn’t pick up some scraps off a train.”

Otto stood abruptly. Flinching, Sal almost fell off his bucket. He had raised his hands to protect his face and, as an afterthought, clenched them in a pathetic display.

“You in or out?” Bennet said to Otto.

“In,” Otto said, “but I’ve got to piss.”

“Guardian of beauty,” Magnus called to Sal, who was slowly lowering his hands as Otto walked out. “Salvatore, your wife is beautiful, your daughter exquisite. Beauty is the burden borne by men brave enough to love it.” He gave Sal a limp salute.