"She wanted me to sit at her table," he remarked.
Mademoiselle Flossie looked at him warningly, and dropped her voice.
"Better be careful!" she whispered. "They say she's a spy!"
"On my track very likely," he declared with a grin.
She threw herself back in her seat and laughed.
"Conceited! Why should any one want to be on your track? Come and see me dance at the Comique to-morrow night."
"Can't," he declared. "My sister's coming over from England."
"Stupid!"
"Oh, I'll come one night," he declared. "Order some coffee, won't you—and what liqueurs?"
"I'll go and fetch my friends," she declared, rising. "We'll all have coffee together."