"Ain't you ashamed to keep such late hours, Miss Blondheim?" said Mr.
Arnheim.
"I don't see no early-to-bed-early-to-rise medals on none of us," she said, diffidently.
"These thummer rethorts sure ain't no plathe for a minither's thon," said Mr. Epstein.
Laughter.
"Remember, Mr. Arnheim, whoever's up first wait in the leather chair opposite the elevator."
"Sure thing, Miss Sternberger."
Her last glance, full of significance, was for Mr. Arnheim. The floor above he also left the elevator, the smile still on his lips.
Left alone, Mr. Epstein turned to Miss Blondheim.
"Good night, dearie," he whispered. "Thweet dreamth."
"Good night, Louie," she replied. "Same to you."