“Out dancin’, I reckin.”
“The deuce. He promised me a highball.”
“Well,” said Jim, “I guess that’ll be all right. I got his bottle right here in my pocket.”
She smiled at him radiantly.
“I guess maybe you’ll need ginger ale though,” he added.
“Not me. Just the bottle.”
“Sure enough?”
She laughed scornfully.
“Try me. I can drink anything any man can. Let’s sit down.”
She perched herself on the side of a table and he dropped into one of the wicker chairs beside her. Taking out the cork she held the flask to her lips and took a long drink. He watched her fascinated.