The girl laughed, a rather soft and mellow laugh. "I suppose I do hit
it up a little strong," she said.

"Strong?" exclaimed Jimmy. "Why, if I drank half what you do I'd be in
the Washingtonian Home in a week."

She looked at him quizzically for a moment, as she had looked at him
often since he had gone to work for Feinheimer.

"You're a funny guy," she said. "I can't quite figure you out. What
are you doing here anyway?"

"I never claimed to be much of a waiter," said Jimmy, "but I didn't know
I was so rotten that a regular customer of the place couldn't tell what
I was trying to do."

"Oh, go on," she cried; "I don't mean that. These other hash-slingers
around here look the part. Aside from that, about the only thing they
know how to do is roll a souse; but you're different."

"Yes," said Jimmy, "I am different. My abilities are limited. All I
can do is wait on table, while they have two accomplishments."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me," said the girl. "I wasn't rubbering. I
was just sort of interested in you."

"Thanks," said Jimmy.

She went on with her breakfast while Jimmy set up an adjoining table.
Presently when he came to fill her water-glass she looked up at him