“You’d better tell me,” she interrupted earnestly—“if you don’t want me to ask the WAITER.”
“But I don’t know him.”
“I saw you speak to him.”
“I thought it was a man I met three years ago out in San Francisco, but I was mistaken. There was a slight resemblance. This fellow might have been a rather decent younger brother of the man I knew. HE was the—”
My strong impression was that if the speaker had not been interrupted at this point he would have said something very unfavourable to the character of the man he had met in San Francisco; but there came a series of blasts from the automobile horns and loud calls from others of the party, who were evidently waiting for these two.
“Coming!” shouted the man.
“Wait!” said his companion hurriedly, “Who was the other man, the older one with the painting things and SUCH a coat?”
“Never saw him before in my life.”
I caught a last word from the girl as the pair moved away.
“I’ll come back here with a BAND to-morrow night, and serenade the beautiful one.