"No, thanks."
There was silence again. The soup had come in, and Mr. Eddie gave it his undivided attention. He ate with amazing rapidity, one course after the other, and he expected to be served without an instant’s delay. Neither the doctor nor Angelica had ever finished when he had, and their plates were always whisked away with choice and coveted morsels on them. There was no sort of conversation—nothing more than Mr. Eddie muttering, with his mouth full, "All right, Annie!" and having one plate replaced by another.
But this was as Angelica liked it. She didn’t wish to talk or to be talked to; she wanted to sit at that table, with two men in evening dress, to contemplate the silver and china and linen, and to reflect with amazed delight upon her situation. A dream fulfilled!
Cautiously she surveyed her two companions—Mr. Eddie, looking rather harassed, and as oblivious of her as if she were invisible to him, and the dapper little white-haired man, whose eye often met hers with a glance stealthy and curious. She decided that he must be Polly’s physician, and a man who must be given no leeway. She had seen his kind, standing outside stage entrances, with walking-stick and boutonnière and a smirk, or on corners where working girls passed on their way home.
Instantly he had finished, Mr. Eddie got up and went over to the sideboard, from the drawer of which he took the three rifled boxes. He didn’t seem to notice that they had been tampered with, but passed two to the doctor.
"Help yourself," he said. "I got these from a chap who imports them for private consumption. Put a couple in your pocket. They’re good."
The doctor helped himself modestly from both boxes, and sniffed at them.
"Ah!" he said. "I can tell! My boy, you can afford to indulge yourself; you’re one of the lucky ones."
"Yes," said Eddie. "Nothing but luck, of course!"
"I didn’t mean to disparage you," cried the doctor. "No one appreciates what you’ve done, and how hard you’ve worked, better than I. Just a little joke, Eddie!" He pushed back his chair and rose. "I’ll have to run out and fetch your mother home from the club," he said. "Au revoir!"