“That fella’s drunk,” she cried. “He’s insulting us.”
“Ah-ha, Gordy,” persisted the accused. “What’d I tell you.” He turned to the waiter. “Gordy an’ I friends. Been tryin’ help him, haven’t I, Gordy?”
Gordy looked up.
“Help me? Hell, no!”
Jewel rose suddenly, and seizing Gordon’s arm assisted him to his feet.
“Come on, Gordy!” she said, leaning toward him and speaking in a half whisper. “Let’s us get out of here. This fella’s got a mean drunk on.”
Gordon allowed himself to be urged to his feet and started toward the door. Jewel turned for a second and addressed the provoker of their flight.
“I know all about you!” she said fiercely. “Nice friend, you are, I’ll say. He told me about you.”
Then she seized Gordon’s arm, and together they made their way through the curious crowd, paid their check, and went out.
“You’ll have to sit down,” said the waiter to Peter after they had gone.