But Tommy was persistent at times. Unknown to me he was now preparing a report to wire the Mater.
"Sleeping better?" he asked.
"Lots."
"Lying to me?"
"A little," I laughed outright. "But honestly I'm in heaps better shape!"
"Oh, I've seen you improving from day to day, but we want to put it over right. So don't hit the asphalt too hard tonight."
And in all justice to myself and my friendship to Tommy I really did not intend to. What place was it that some one said is paved with good intentions?
Leaving the Opera House we mixed with the laughing tide that flowed along the Prado, and by the merest chance—destinies of nations, much less our own, sometimes rest upon a merest chance—dropped in for supper at a fashionable place patronized by those who wish to see the brightest of Havana life. There were other places, of course, that might have offered quite as much, but this one happened to be on the route we had taken.
Midnight passed, but still we lingered, seated on the latticed balcony that encircles an inner court where cabaret features are held—suggestive of a bull ring. One rather piquant Spanish girl, playing her accompaniment on a guitar, gazed softly up at Tommy while singing about some wonderful Nirvana, an enchanted island that floated in a sea of love. It was a pretty song, even if more intense than temperate, and pleased with it he tossed her a coin; whereupon she tilted her chin and raised a shoulder, asking in the universal language of cabarets if she should not come up and drink a health with the imperioso Señor. But he, whose heart was beating against a twenty-page letter from a nymph in the Bluegrass region of Kentucky, laughed a negative, this time throwing her a flower that she kissed lightly and put in her hair.
We had supped well, the mandolins were now tinkling, incessantly, and this, mingled with the silvery tones of glasses touched in eager pledges, created an ensemble of sounds dear to the heart of every true Bohemian. Effects were good here. The ceilings and walls of our balcony were lighted by vari-colored electric bulbs artfully placed amidst growing vines that drooped in festoons above the tables, producing a fairy-like enchantment. And, indeed, the café proved to be a mart not only of enchantments but entertainments, including a popular gambling salon.