"Well, we're trying to save you some of the money," Anna drawled. She didn't like him either. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Jeeter, but you wanted to see the operative I selected and I had to send for him."
"He doesn't look like the type to me," Mr. Jeeter said, giving me a nasty glance. "I think more of a gentleman -- "
"You're not the Jeeter of Tobacco Road, are you?" I asked him.
He came slowly towards me and half lifted the stick. His icy eyes tore at me like claws. "So you insult me," he said. "Me -- a man in my position."
"Now wait a minute," Anna began.
"Wait a minute nothing," I said. "This party said I was not a gentleman. Maybe that's okay for a man in his position, whatever it is -- but a man in my position doesn't take a dirty crack from anybody. He can't afford to. Unless, of course, it wasn't intended."
Mr. Jeeter stiffened and glared at me. He took his watch out again and looked at it. "Twenty-eight minutes," he said. "I apologize, young man. I had no desire to be rude."
"That's swell," I said. "I knew you weren't the Jeeter in Tobacco Road all along."
That almost started him again, but he let it go. He wasn't sure how I meant it.
Raymond Chandler,"Trouble Is My Business,"