"What you talking about then? Here, let's take one of these things with two horses. Gee, you ought to smoke a fat black seegar and wear a silk hat when you ride in one of these! I feel like a parade." He was like a boy on a holiday, as always when in Europe.
"But let me tell you about this girl, won't you!"
"Oh, it's a girl! What's her name? What's she do?"
"Her name's Mizzi."
"Mizzi what?"
"I don't know. She's a hod carrier. She—"
"That's all right, Wallie. I'm here now. An ice bag on your head and real quiet for two-three days. You'll come round fine."
But Wallie was almost sulking. "Wait till you see her, S.H. She sings."
"Beautiful, is she?"
"No, not particularly. No."