"You got to see Silent Sam Shapiro, my manager. He does all my business."
Don't you love that?
Well, while all this trifling small talk is being had, both of us and the pest are taking unwilling shower baths of typical cold Southampton rain.
We're making no progress at all, with Hazel and her tête-à-tête getting along like a couple of headache powders in a glass of water. So I took a hand.
"Listen, young man!" I says, smiling sweetly, "we've got about fifteen minutes to catch a boat for America and"
"Why didn't you say you was Amuricans?" interrupts the stranger. "I would of worked different!"
"Did you expect us to wave flags, you little boob?" snorts Hazel. "Hurry up and get away from that door—we're late!"
"Stop squawkin' and leave me alone, will you?" complains our young friend. "So you're Amuricans, hey? Well, well, well! So am I. I come from Noo Yawk. Where did you cuteys blow in from? Ain't this Southampton a fearful slab?"
"Shut up!" almost screams the nervous Hazel, with a hasty glance at her watch. "If you don't go away from this cab I'll"
"Oh, be yourself, good-lookin' and quit gettin' rosy with me!" says the Noo Yawker peevishly. "I'm
