"What do you mean by that," she said.

"Just what I said. You aren't as smart as you think you are."

"Meaning what?"

Gypsy said nothing but continued to look up at Cynthia, a self-assured, nasty grin on her face. Finally she said, "What's the matter? Afraid Frankie will leave you?" She saw Cynthia flush and laughed again, saying, "Or has he already?"

"You filthy bitch," Cynthia blurted out angrily.

Gypsy's face became cold and hard as she screamed, "Don't call me a filthy bitch. I can still take any man away from you, you pig, and especially Frankie. I know how I can do it!"

Cynthia stepped closer, her face still flushed, but now with anger. "Okay, Gypsy," she said. "I've heard the dirty lies you've been spreading and your stupid threats, and if you rat on him I'll tear you to pieces. So keep away from him, you understand me?"

Gypsy rose from her chair, trying to keep her balance. "You're telling me to keep away from him?" she screamed. "After what you've done, you stinkin' bitch, after you…" she raised her arm and splashed the gin at Cynthia.

The liquor hit her in the face and ran down the front of her coat. She stepped back in surprise trying to wipe the stinging liquid from her eyes at the same time. When she blinked in an effort to clear her vision, Gypsy leaped at her, catching her off balance and she fell to the floor, Gypsy on top of her scratching at her face and pulling her hair like a crazy woman.

The door burst open, banged against the wall and Al and the stagehand rushed in. They managed to pull the girls apart and Cynthia leaned against Al, panting and gasping. Gypsy squirmed wildly in the other man's arms, trying to get back at Cynthia. It was only when he slapped her sharply on the face that she quieted down and then burst into tears.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Al said and steered her rapidly out the door. They left by the rear exit and stopped in the alleyway until she could recover her breath and her composure. They walked out to the sidewalk and down the street to another bar.