Fanny took a glass, followed in turn by Jimmie, who, extending his clumsy hand, snatched one of the dainty glasses and put it to his lips. The butler, all smiles and civility, placed the tray on a table and again bowed low. Pointing to the tray, he said:
"Cigarettes and cigars! Is there anything else?"
"Not for me," replied Jimmie, making himself comfortable in a chair on the other side of the table.
"Nor for me," smiled Fanny, graciously.
"No, thank you," added Virginia quickly. "We need nothing else."
"Then excuse, please. Excuse—"
The butler salaamed and withdrew, leaving Jimmie and Fanny sipping their cocktails, while Virginia, still interested in the hundred and one curios scattered about the rooms, strolled around alone.
"Some cocktail, eh?" grinned Jimmie, smacking his lips.
"Fine!" exclaimed his fiancée, emptying her glass and putting it down on the table.
Suddenly the clerk's eyes, wandering idly around the room, alighted on the tray filled with cigar and cigarette boxes which the butler had left behind. Rising and going to the table, he stood staring greedily at some expensive perfectos. Finally, unable any longer to withhold his itching palm, he put out his hand and selected one. He lit it and for a few moments puffed away with evident satisfaction. The more he puffed and inhaled the weed's fragrant aroma, the more sorry he was that he had none of the same brand at home. Acting on a sudden impulse, he went back to the table and took half a dozen cigars out of the box. He was about to stuff them into his pocket when Virginia, stepping quickly forward, interfered: