My lips peeled back from my teeth in a lupine snarl. "Listen, chummer , your French cuffs may make you aces in corporator pissing contests, but they won’t stop bullets. You may also be a crack shot with witty repartee or know just when to kiss up to your boss, but that don’t mean spit in hell-on-Earth. Out there, they don’t worry about oysters being in season or if you’re using the right fork. You want her to get there safe, you leave her with me."