As to appearance, Petticoat was very pretty, with that fresh rosy beauty
that is so attractive. His walnut hair was fine and silky, but a permanent
wave made it fuzz forth in a bushy crinkle that was distractingly lovely.
His tweezed eyebrows were arched to a perfect span and his finger nails
showed a piano polish.

His features were cold-chiseled and his coloring was exquisite. In
fact, his coloring was too good to be true, and no wonder, for it came out
of a very modern and up-to-date six-cylinder makeup box.

His lips looked as if they were used to giving orders in restaurants, and
he wore clothes which you could never quite forget.

Warble edged toward the stranger, and murmured nothing in particular, but
somehow he drifted into the last and only vacant seat at her table.

She whisked him a 2 x 2 napkin, dumped a clatter of flatware at him, and
stood, awaiting his order.

The pause becoming lengthy, she murmured with her engaging smile, "Whatcha
want to eat?"

"Pleased to eat you," he responded, looking at her as though she was an
agreeable discovery.

Small wonder, for Warble was so peachy and creamy, so sweet and delectable
that she was a far more appetizing sight than most viands are. She smiled
again--engagingly this time, too.

Thus in the Painted Vale of Huneker, Vamp and Victim beguiled the hours.