"What's she doing fetching drinks at his poker games then?"
"What else she going to do?" Dion said. "Retire?"
"No. but . . ."
"Albert's married," Dion said. "Who's to say how long a party gal lasts on his arm?"
"She strike you as a party gal?"
Dion slowly thumbed the cap off a bottle of Canadian gin, his flat eyes on Joe. "She didn't strike me as anything but a gal bagged up our money. I couldn't even tell you what color her hair was. I couldn't"
"Dark blond. Almost light brown, but not quite."
"She's Albert's girl." Dion poured them all a drink.
"So she is," Joe said.
"Bad enough we just knocked over the man's joint. Don't go getting any ideas about taking anything else from him. All right?" Joe didn't say anything. "All right?" Dion repeated. "All right." Joe reached for his drink. "Fine."
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