"Oh, she did n't ask for me," cried Joe, tremulous and eager.

His companion went away laughing.

"Who 's your young friend?" asked Hattie.

"A fellah from the South."

"Bring him over here."

Joe could hardly believe in his own good luck, and his head, which was
getting a bit weak, was near collapsing when his divinity asked him what
he 'd have? He began to protest, until she told the waiter with an air
of authority to make it a little "'skey." Then she asked him for a
cigarette, and began talking to him in a pleasant, soothing way between
puffs.

When the drinks came, she said to Thomas, "Now, old man, you 've been
awfully nice, but when you get your little drink, you run away like a
good little boy. You 're superfluous."

Thomas answered, "Well, I like that," but obediently gulped his whiskey
and withdrew, while Joe laughed until the master of ceremonies stood up
and looked sternly at him.

The concert had long been over and the room was less crowded when Thomas
sauntered back to the pair.

"Well, good-night," he said. "Guess you can find your way home, Mr.