The Metropole was quiet. Lucky was hoping for a pick-up game, but no one would bite. He leaned against the bar and nursed a beer. There was a drawing lying on the bar and he flipped it over. Oh man. Whoever had drawn it had a good eye. No mistaking what was going on here. That was Mitzi. That was Jerry. And that was morphine. "She is nothing but a common addict," Ernst said. Lucky jumped. He hadn't heard Ernst come up. "It is terrible, the way she takes advantage of your friend." She's a bar girl, Lucky thought. If Jerry is stupid enough to spend money on a bar girl, that's his look-out. But he shrugged noncommittally. "But she puts on airs," Ernst said. "Have you noticed?" "I dunno," Lucky said. "She's been all right to me." "She thinks she is too good," Ernst said, bitterly. Light bulb went off for Lucky. She'd turned the toad down. Well good for her. Even a bar girl should have some standards-like not sleeping with animals like the toad here. "What do you think would happen if your friend saw this?" Ernst speculated. "He probably wouldn't believe it," Lucky said. Jerry wanted to be blind. That's how B-girls worked. You had to decide before you even struck up a conversation that you were willing to go for the ride. "Do you think?" Ernst considered. "I guess you are right. A drawing is not like, say, a photograph." The priest was coming down the stairs. Lucky seized on his appearance as a chance to escape Ernst. "I promised Whitecloud I check on his refugees," he said and left before Ernst could reply. Creepy little man, Lucky thought.
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