After the coffee there were liqueurs. I glanced at Fibsy to see if he accepted a tiny glass from the butler's tray.
He did, and, moreover, he examined the contents with the air of a connoisseur.
"Oo de vee de Dantzic," he remarked, holding up his glass and gazing at the gold flecks in it.
We all smiled at him.
"Your favorite cordial, Terence?" asked Stone, affably.
"Yessir. Don't you love it, Mrs. Schuyler?"
"Yes," she said, and then, "why, no, I don't love it, child. But one gets accustomed to something of the sort."
"But don't you like it better than Cream de mint or Benediction?" he persisted.
Ruth laughed outright. "How do you know those names, you funny boy," she said.
"Read 'em on the big signboards," he returned. "They have the biggest billboards in New York for one of these lickures. I forget which one."