around us, or the jiggly music, or a combination of all three; but by
the time I've induced Mr. Higgins to tackle a demitasse and light up a
seven-inch Havana he mellows enough so that he's almost on the point of
makin' a remark all by himself.

"Well," says I encouragin', "why not let it come?"

And it does. "By gorry!!" says he. "It's most eight o'clock. What
time do the shows begin?"

"I was just go in' to mention that," says I. "Plenty of time, though.
Anything special you'd like to see?"

"Why, yes," says he. And then, glancin' around cautious, he leans
across the table and asks mysterious, "Say, where's Maizie Latour
actin'?"

Honest, it comes out so unexpected he had me gaspin'. "Oh, you
Boothbay ringer!" says I. "Maizie, eh? Now, who would have thought
it? And you only landed this mornin'! Maizie--er--what was that
again?"

"Latour," says he, flushin' up some and tryin' not to notice my josh.

"It's by me," says I. "Sounds like musical comedy, though. Is she a
showgirl, or one of the chicken ballet?"

Ira shakes his head puzzled. "All I know," says he, "is that she's
actin' somewhere in New York, and--and I'd like to find out where.
I--I got to!" he adds emphatic.