"Same as last week, excepting at the Gaiete. They've put on `La Belle
Helene' there."

"Oh! Belle Helene!" cried Clifford.

Tzing! la! la! Tzing! la! la!
C'est avec ces dames qu' Oreste
Fait danser l'argent de Papa!

Rhodes began to growl again.

"I shouldn't think you'd feel like gibbering that rot tonight."

Clifford smiled sweetly and patted him on the head. "Tzing! la! la!
My shot, Elliott?"

"Tzing! la! la!" laughed Thaxton, "That's Clifford's biography in
three words."

Clifford repeated the refrain and winked impudently at the pretty
bookkeeper behind her railing. She, alas! returned it with a blush.

Gethryn rose restlessly and went over to another table where a man,
young, but older than himself, sat, looking comfortable.

"Braith," he began, trying to speak indifferently, "any news of my
fate?"

The other man finished his beer and then answered carelessly, "No."
But catching sight of Gethryn's face he added, with a laugh: