"Mister Man," questioned Sue, "why haven't we seen you before?"
Balcome rubbed his hands together, chuckling. "Yes, why? Why?"
"Business, Mrs. Balcome," parried Sue; "—press of business."
"Business!" cried the elder woman, scornfully. "Huh!—and where is he staying?"
"But you said yourself, 'Where he is, or what he does'——" Then as Mrs. Balcome rotated to stare at her resentfully, "Where is 'he' staying, Mr. Balcome?"
"Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!" bellowed Balcome. Leaning, he imparted something to Sue in a whisper.
"Where?" persisted his wife.
"He's at the Astor," declared Sue, and was swept with Balcome into a gale of mirth.
"Don't treat this as a joke, my dear Susan," warned Mrs. Balcome.
"Oh, joke, Sue! Joke!" cried Balcome, flapping at Sue with his hat.
"If there's one thing I like to see in a woman it's a sense of humor."