Hello.
Let's have it.
What do you want?
Johnson's wallet.
What?
Come on.
What are you talking about? Hey mister, what's got into you? [He takes her by the arm into his across-the-corridor room, and locks the door behind him] What do you think you're gonna do?
I'm gonna get that wallet, Slim.
I'd rather you wouldn't call me Slim. I'm a little too skinny to take it kindly.
Quit the baby talk. Which is it?
You know, Steve, I wouldn't put it past you. I didn't know you were a hotel detective. [She pulls the wallet from inside her checkered suit and hands it over]
Johnson's my client.
He doesn't speak so well of you.
He's still my client. You oughta pick on somebody to steal from that doesn't owe me money.
He dropped it and I picked it up.
And you were gonna give it back to him, of course.
No, no I wasn't. I don't like him.
That's a pretty good reason.
Besides, I need boat fare to get out of Martinique.
