"All right. I will." Gabby arose. "I'll bring the money tomorrow afternoon." "Not you. Him." "He may not be able to come. I'll bring the money. That won't make any difference, will it?" "Either he brings it himself or it's no deal." Aimee insisted. She looked at Gabby malevolently. "Why?" "Never mind why. He brings it himself. He hands it to me like a gentleman, and he asks me extra polite like a gentleman to do him a favor and give him back the letter. Extra polite or it's no deal." "Then I can't trust you." "You can trust me if he behaves himself." Gabby hesitated. At last she said: "He can't do that, Aimee. We can't let him find out he's been writing those letters ... not now. Please understand." Aimee's eyes lit up. "So it'll hurt him a little. It's time he found out how it feels to get hurt." "What are you trying to do? Punish him?" "That's between me and him." "No. I think it's between you and somebody else." Gabby examined Aimee. "You're using him to punish somebody else." "It's between him and my ass!" Aimee shouted. "Don't show me your bruise again," Gabby said. "Please listen to me. He's in trouble. Don't make it worse for him. You must have been in trouble yourself. You must know what it means to need help." "And who got me in trouble?" Aimee spat. "The nice respectable safe ones like you." "Why are you so hostile to me? You think I look down on you, don't you. Why are you so class conscious?" "Class my ass! What the hell do I care about class? They all gimme a lousy time ... all of them. So now it's my turn to hand out a little grief." "Stop whining, Aimee. You're just feeling sorry for yourself. I'm doing the same thing you are, but I'm not whining. Half the women in the world are too, and they don't whine either." "Do what?" "Sleep with men the law doesn't approve of." Gabby tried to smile. "Let's be honest, Aimee. As far as the law's concerned we're both whores. Let's stick together and help each other." "Get outa here," Aimee raged. "Not without the letter." "I already told you. Let him bring the dough and beg, and he'll get the letter. Now beat it." Gabby shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's a dreadful thing to say, but you're not even an honest whore, Aimee. You'll have to trust me for the money. Give me the letter." "I'll give you a kick in your high-class ass," Aimee cried. She darted at Gabby, seized her by the shoulders and pushed her toward the door. "You get the hell outa my house." Gabby tore her hands away. "How dare you!" she exclaimed. "Yeah. Now it comes! The high-tone how dare you!" Aimee screeched. "How dare anybody like me touch somebody like you, you goddam high-assed duchess!" She leaped at Gabby in a burst of fury, kicking and clutching at her hair. Gabby staggered, then swung her purse and knocked Aimee back against the wall. "I'll bring you down," Aimee spat. "You aren't bad," Gabby answered grimly. "You're spoiled. You're a spoiled, selfish, lazy slut."