“And what would your father think about your activities here downtown?” She visibly bristled, her shoulders tight, brows lowered in anger. “Good God. You are a worm, Mulligan. No, you are lower than a worm. You are the scum floating atop a Mulberry Street puddle.” He chuckled. “I will give you credit for creativity, Miss Greene. I don’t think I’ve ever been called puddle scum before.” “I wish I could revel in the achievement. Unfortunately, I’m too busy cursing you inside my head.” “And what curses would those be? I’m curious how an uptown princess curses out a man like me.” She drew closer,
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