“But what good is it?”
He sighed again. “The real purpose of it is not to run errands for gin and mix drinks. That was just a demonstration. The real purpose—”
“Wait,” I said. “Speaking of drinks, wait. It’s a long time since I had one.”
I made the table, tacking only twice, and this time I didn’t bother with the soda. I put a little lemon and an ice cube in each glass of gin.
Charlie tasted his and made a wry face.
I tasted mine. “Sour,” I said. “I should have left out the lemon. And we better drink them quick before the ice cubes start to melt or they’ll be weak.”
“The real purpose,” said Charlie, “is—”
“Wait,” I said. “You could be wrong, you know. About the limitations. I’m going to put that headband on and tell Yehudi to bring us Lill and—”
“Don’t be a sap, Hank. I made the thing. I know how it works. You can’t get Lill St. Cyr or Esther Williams or Brooklyn Bridge.”
“You’re positive?”